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HON NY PRINCE 








BONNY PRINCE 


THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A 
COLLIE DOG 


BY 

MARION SEWELL 


CHICAGO 

A. FLANAGAN COMPANY 







LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Conies Received 

SEP 1 J906 

Copy rig lit Entry 

y/U/jb / / 9 0 & 
CLASS' CL XXC. No. 

/ 3^-i 

COPY B. 


Copyright 1906 
by 

A. FLANAGAN COMPANY 



CONTENTS 


Chapter. Page. 

I. First Impressions - -- -- -- 5 

II. My New Home - -- -- -- - 9 

III. Happy Days - -- -- -- - 17 

IV. A Rival ---------- 25 

V. Better than a Fairy Prince - - - - 31 

VI. Miss Sibye Overbright ----- 39 

VII. My First Meeting with a Mole - - - 46 

VIII. What a Beautiful World ----- 52 

IX. Getting Ready - -- -- -- -58 

X. The Ball ---------- 63 

XI. “Good-Bye, Bonny Prince” - - - 72 

XII. Heartache --------- 83 

XIII. A Sudden Change - -- -- --87 

XIV. Gypsy Life -.90 

XV. Evil Communications.97 

XVI. The Gypsies’ Warning ----- 102 

XVII. Old Shep .113 

XVIII. Misunderstanding and Misery - - - 122 

XIX. Calm After Storm.128 

XX. I Come to My Own.133 

XXI. All’s Well That Ends Well - - - - 138 




























% 













BONNY PRINCE 


CHAPTER I 

First Impressions 

The first thing I remember in this world is the box 
in which I passed my early days. It was about six 
feet long, I think, and nearly as wide, and the bottom 
was covered with coarse, prickly straw. I have 
often thought that I might have begun life under 
more favorable circumstances, but taking all in all, 
I have seen enough happiness in my life to make 
amends for any amount of discomfort at the begin¬ 
ning. 

I could not have been more than five weeks old 
when I began taking an interest in the things about 
me; not a very great interest, to be sure, but suffic¬ 
ient to keep time from hanging too heavily upon my 
paws. The straw before mentioned often tickled 
my nose, but I did not let it distress me very much, 
for, being unused to the ways of the world, I sup¬ 
posed that every one had to be tickled more or less. 



6 


BONNY PRINCE 


A wide crack in the side of the box allowed whiffs of 
cold air to sail over my head, and when they blew 
in my face I sneezed; and then as I buried my nose 
in the straw I nearly always sneezed again. How¬ 
ever, I soon became used to the weather, and the 
long, wide crack gave me much amusement, because 
through it I could see and be seen. As I looked out 
into the world I saw many things which seemed 
strange and fearful, but in due time I even under¬ 
stood that they were useful each in its particular way. 
I sometimes smile and wag my tail to think how 
little I knew at first and how much I have learned 
in the course of my long life. 

Many times a day a pan of warm milk appeared 
in one corner of my little home (which, by the way, 
I shared with five frolicsome brothers and sisters), 
and while it was being lapped by half a dozen eager 
tongues, I heard voices outside and from them I 
learned that I was a Collie pup with a coat of so 
dark a brown that it was commonly spoken of as 
black. My little brothers and sisters were just 
common yellow puppies, good-natured and playful. 
Sometimes they amused me with their frolicsome 
ways, for they were always tumbling over each 


I 



TWO MEN STOOD OVER OUR BOX 






































































8 


BONNY PRINCE 


other, and they often looked very funny as they 
bounded and rolled from one side of the box to the 
other. When I grew tired of watching them I 
would turn my eyes to the outer world where I was 
sure to find something worthy of my attention. 

One rather cold day when I was about seven 
weeks old I sat huddled in one corner of the box 
at the very end of the crack watching with interest 
numbers of white flakes sifting down from some¬ 
where above my head. They came more and 
more slowly and at last I could not see them at 
all. I wondered where they had gone, and as I 
strained my eyes hoping to see, my head bumped 
against something soft and silky, and before I had 
time to assert my dignity, I was struggling on my 
back, unable to move because one of those pale 
brown puppies had sunk his teeth into my throat. 
After some time I managed to rise to my feet, and 
was surprised to find that I was not in the least 
hurt, only breathless and more angry than I now 
like to confess. None appeared to notice my 
distress, for the whole five were wrestling playfully 
in the straw, but I recognized the impudent little 
fellow that had just attacked me and taking a long 


FIRST IMPRESSIONS 


9 


breath I prepared to give him his first lesson in good 
manners. Then suddenly the lid of our box opened 
wide, and my eyes were blinded by a flood of light. 


CHAPTER II 

My New Home 

Two men stood over our box looking down at us. 
One was fat and rosy-faced, and wore a long cloak 
wrapped closely about him. The other I recognized 
as our master. He was an old man with a gray 
beard and he appeared anxious for us to be admired. 
They were both laughing and the strange man was 
saying, “Fine little dogs, every one of them, but if 
you don’t mind Fll take this one, for the boy said he 
wanted a black puppy that had a white collar.” As 
he said this he touched me lightly with his riding 
whip, and my master seemed greatly pleased with 
the selection. 

“I’ll go and get a basket to put him in,” he called 

back as he went off in the direction of the house. 

The strange man took me out of the box and stroked 

my hair, telling me that I was very handsome and 

asked me if I was worth fifty dollars. I was quite 

eager to let him know that I was very cheap at that 

figure, but being unable to talk I merely grunted my 

satisfaction. After what seemed to me rather a 
10 


MY NEW HOME 


11 


long time, the old man returned, bringing with him 
a round basket lined with cotton, I was put into this 
and the lid was partly closed over me so that I could 



not get out, though I had a chance to enjoy the 
fresh air. When this was done, the man who now 
owned me handed the old gentleman a green piece 
of paper and said, “There you are.” He smiled, 
and rubbing his hands together remarked, “Fifty 


12 


BONNY PRINCE 


dollars is a large sum to pay for such a scrap of a 
dog, but you'll see that in time he will be worth 
more than a hundred dollars to you." 

As my new master picked up the basket I saw my 
little brothers and sisters for the last time, as they 
crowded whimpering together in a corner of the big 
box. Presently my new friend started off humming 
a low tune and swaying me gently backward and 
forward as he walked. I soon fell asleep in my 
comfortable abode and did not awaken until there 
was a bumping and a jostling and a noise of whistles 
and bells and loud voices and we came again into 
the chill air. I know now, what I did not know 
then, that I had just been having my first ride in a 
train. I heard several people speak to “Mr. 
French" and each asked him what he had in the 
basket. To all he replied that he had “fifty dollars 
worth of dog flesh." Some were not satisfied with 
this answer and came to inspect the prize. The 
ladies all pronounced me “cunning" and “lovely," 
but the men were much less refined and pretended 
not to see my beauty. They even went so far as to 
tell Mr. French that another “trade like that" would 
break him up. I was glad to see, however, that he 





SEVERAL PEOPLE ASKED WHAT HE HAD IN THE BASKET 











14 


BONNY PRINCE 


paid no attention to their disrespectful remarks, 
only seeming to be amused. After he had parted 
from a last group of friends he started down a side¬ 
walk humming and swaying me backward and for¬ 
ward as before. I would have again fallen asleep 
had not a clear young voice broken in upon my 
dosing. 

“Did you get him, 
papa? Did you get the 
black puppy with a 
white collar ?” 

“Yes, Howard, my 
boy,” Mr. French called 
back, “and here he is. 

I am sure you will be 
delighted.” As he 
spoke he took the lid 
off the basket and be¬ 
fore I could collect my 
thoughts I was thrust 
into the eager hands of the nicest, merriest little boy 
that it has ever been my lot to meet. He was about 
nine years old and had brown curly hair and a pair 
of brown eyes that sparkled with delight. He 



MY NEW HOME 


15 


laughed and laughed as he looked at me and I 
noticed how white and even were his teeth. I 
decided the moment I saw him that he was a very 
good-humored boy and that I would have a fine 
master in the person of little Howard French. 

He carried me up the row of stone steps and into 
the beautiful and richly furnished house where I made 
the acquaintance of 
Howard’s mama, his 
Aunt Lucy, and a num¬ 
ber of servants. They 
all praised and petted 
me until I felt very 
proud. 

Aunt Lucy, who was 
a lovely, golden-haired 
young lady, remem¬ 
bered that I must be 
hungry after my long 
journey, and at once 
warmed some sweet 
milk which she placed 
before me in a cunning wooden dish. While I 
lapped it up, timidly at first and then more boldly 






16 


BONNY PRINCE 


Mrs. French asked what name should be given 
me. Some one suggested “Nero” at once, but 
Howard put it aside, he thought me far too small 
for such a big-sounding name. His mama said that 
I would probably grow quite large, still my young 
master held out for a cute, baby name, and they 
were at the point of despair when Aunt Lucy came 
to the rescue by saying that she thought “Bonny 
Prince” would do very nicely. At the mention of 
a double name for me, Howard clapped his hands 
delightedly. 

“That is just the thing,” he cried. “Bonny means 
pretty, and will suit while he’s little and then Prince 
is great and noble and just the name for him when 
he is a great big doggie.” 

“Yes, but you must call him Prince now,” said 
Aunt Lucy mischievously, “or he won’t know whom 
you mean when he is grown up.” 

“I will always call him Bonny Prince,” returned 
Howard, as he dropped on his knees beside me, 
upsetting my milk, in his excitement. 


CHAPTER III 
Happy Days 

I came to my new home when the snow was on the 
ground, and everything was cold and frozen. I 
was given a nice warm house of my own, where 
Master Howard brought me nice meals three times 
a day. I found him to be the kindest and dearest 
little master in the world. He seemed to know just 
how a little dog likes to be treated and no matter how 
wild was our play he never became rough or hurt me. 

When spring came, I had grown very much and 
was allowed to go everywhere with Howard. What 
times we had together! During the long winter 
evenings he taught me games and tricks, and I am 
forced to say that I was a very apt pupil. Some 
things I could do so well that the admiration of the 
whole family was elicited, and frequently the neigh¬ 
bors were brought in to see me perform. On such 
occasions, being quite modest, I would hide behind 
Master Howard, and only come out after much 
coaxing. Once started I did wonderful things. It 
is all so long ago that I forget half of them, but it is 


18 


BONNY PRINCE 


enough to remember that I was made much of and 
admired to my hearts content. 

As I said, it was in the spring when everything was 
beginning to live again, that my cup of happiness 



was so full. On bright afternoons I trotted in the 
woods at my little master’s heels while he sought 
wild flowers for dear Aunt Lucy, satisfied to rest 


HAPPY DAYS 


19 



when he rested, content if he 
wished to roam for hours at a 
time. I especially enjoyed the 
weekly rides in the carriage 
down a cool, pleasant road 
which led to a large silent build¬ 
ing where Howard/s mama and 
Aunt Lucy would get out, bring¬ 
ing with them the wild flowers 
which little master and I had 
gathered. But my greatest pleas¬ 
ure was when I was allowed to 
go to school with my young 
master. 

Strange to say, the boys and 
girls never teased me but often 
gave me choice scraps from 
their dinner-pails, and taught 
me many tricks with a rubber 
ball. While school was in ses¬ 
sion I would amuse myself by 
chasing rabbits, but this was 
not very exciting, for almost 
as soon as I had made a good 








20 


BONNY PRINCE 


start in the race the rabbit would disappear from 
view and I had my efforts for nothing and a long 
walk back, in the bargain. 

Staying by myself outside soon grew tiresome 
and as I knew no reason why I should not I decided 
to walk in through the open doors and see what 
Master Howard and the rest were doing. I sprang 
lightly up the steps and stood looking in at the door. 
The teacher’s face was turned from me and she was 
writing on the blackboard. She was tall and slim 
and had a big roll of brown hair on the top of her 
head, through which peeped a long, red pencil. 

“How many bones in the human face?” she 
asked, and turned round so suddenly that I do 
believe she expected her pupils’ attention to be 
wandering, but in this she was mistaken, for they 
were all sitting as straight as ramrods, their eyes 
fixed on the blackboard. 

“Fourteen when they’re all in place,” chimed a 
chorus of well-drilled voices. 

“Fourteen when they are all in place,” she re¬ 
peated to herself, and wrote that on the blackboard 
too. 



IS THIS HOWARD’S DOG? 





























































































































































22 


BONNY PRINCE 


“Name them, Lester, please,” she said without 
turning around. 

“The nasal organs—he, he, he!” giggled Lester, 
unable to go any further in his lesson. 

“Why, Lester Winters!” cried the teacher, with a 
great frown, as she faced him. “What do you see 
funny about the nasal organs?” 

“’Taint that,” grasped Lester, “Bonny Prince is 
sitting on the floor behind the stove.” 

Then other smothered giggles were heard in the 
room. 

“Bobby Pierce in school!” exclaimed the teacher, 
dropping her piece of chalk, “And his mother wrote 
to me this morning, saying that he was ill with the 
measles.” 

I had been so interested watching the lesson that I 
forgot where I was until I heard my name men¬ 
tioned, then I glanced around a little frightened, 
and the next thing I knew the teacher was standing 
over me looking so surprised and angry that I did 
not know what to do. 

“What do you mean, Lester, by saying Bobbie 
Pierce is in the room when there is nothing here but 
a strange dog?” she asked in a severe tone. 


HAPPY DAYS 


23 


“Ma’am, I did not say Bobbie Pierce, I said Bonny 
Prince,” faltered Lester, expecting trouble. 

“It’s the dog’s name,” somebody else explained. 

“Is this Howard’s dog?” asked the teacher, be¬ 
ginning to look interested. 

“Yes, Miss Ruth, that’s my dog; the one papa 
bought for me in New York,” Howard put in, as he 
and another boy came up the steps with a bright 
pail of water between them. 

I had thought Master Howard was in the school¬ 
room all the time, but was a little too timid to seek 
him out. I would have felt less secure if I had 
known he was absent. But now that Miss Ruth 
was beginning to relent, I thought it high time to 
show her that I was no common dog, nor, as she 
insinuated, “a stray dog.” So I hastily went through 
a number of tricks, among which was jumping over 
a chair and passing within a few inches of her head. 
This performance seemed to alarm her somewhat, 
for she probably expected me to become more and 
more reckless and perhaps do some one bodily harm. 
She appeared, however, very well pleased with my 
exhibition, and as she patted me on the head, she 
said something about my being “intelligent,” and 


24 


BONNY PRINCE 


how she had heard that I was very “valuable.” 
After I had received the admiration of the whole 
school, Master Howard put his finger under my 
collar and proudly marched me out through the 



door and down the steps and told me to go home, 
being an obedient dog I did so, but came back 
directly and enjoyed myself very much in the big 
woodbox. 







CHAPTER IV 
A Rival 

One morning Master Howard peeped in at my 
kennel, and I knew from the delighted expression 
on his face that something unusually pleasant had 
happened. I sprang up and ran to meet him. As 
I reached the door he seized me round the neck and 
poured the good news into my ears: 

“Just think, Bonny Prince,” he cried, “we have a 
new playfellow, the sweetest little thing in the 
world;” and then he added quickly, “except you, 
Bonny Prince—of course I do not think there is 
anything more handsome than you.” 

I was glad to hear little master say this, but I 
had a queer feeling as we trotted along side by side, 
that whatever this pretty plaything was it would 
come in for a large share of Howard’s attention; 
perhaps as time went on I would be neglected 
altogether. Nevertheless, I tried to be happy 
because my young master was happy, and to forget 
my own troubles in watching his laughing lips and 
soarkling eyes. 


26 


BONNY PRINCE 


After a short time, we came to the orchard fence, 
which we scaled, both landing on the ground at 
once. We hurried over the soft grass and in a 
moment I stood beside an object which at once 
filled me with a mixture of admiration and envy. 
I remained very still, not knowing what to think 
of this strange, lovely creature, and was just making 
up my mind to bark when Master Howard put a 
finger under my collar, and drawing me up closer, 
said gaily: 

“Bonny Prince, this is my pony, Fleetfoot. 
Fleetfoot, this is my dog, Bonny Prince.” 

I backed away from the pony, as I did not wish 
Master Howard to know that I thought it anything 
out of the common, but Fleetfoot was a little more 
polite than I, and pretended to be greatly pleased 
with my appearance. He followed me and put his 
head down close to mine, I am very much ashamed 
to say that at the time I was sorely tempted to snap 
at the white, velvety nose, thinking that he would 
not then be so proud of robbing me of little master's 
notice. 

Howard went over to a fence a few yards away to 
bring a saddle, and while he was gone I looked 


A RIVAL 


27 


closely at the pony as it cropped the moist grass. It 
had four small, white feet, a long yellow tail and 
mane, a glossy chestnut coat, and his beauty was 
completed by a perfect star upon his forehead. 



Master Howard had often shown me my profile m a 
mirror, and I remembered myself now as a collie 
dog with curly hair of so dark a brown that nearly 
every one called it black, and with a ring of white 
about my neck. I had always been admired wher- 












28 


BONNY PRINCE 


ever I went, and all who knew me were aware of the 
pure Scotch lineage that was mine. And after all, 
what did it amount to? “I would rather”—here 
my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of my 
young master’s voice. Looking up, I saw him and 
another boy of his own size pass within a few feet of 
me. Never before had Lee Elliot failed to seek me 
out and pat me on the head. Now he and Howard 
went at once to the pony, threw the saddle upon his 
back, and in a moment they were leading him to a 
flat stump from which to mount and canter off. I 
chanced to lie flat on the ground a short distance 
from the stump, and not thinking it necessary to 
move, remained quite still, nursing my grief. The 
pony shied as they came near and threw up his head 
as if much frightened, and then Lee Elliot, the boy 
who had always petted me, cried out angrily: 

“Dog! get out of the way. What are you doing 
there?” 

Yes, what was I doing there or anywhere else, 
now that little master did not love me any more 
and allowed strangers to abuse me while he fastened 
pretty straps upon a pony which he had never seen 
until, a day before? I stood up and was walking 


A RIVAL 


29 


away, I did not know where, when I was stopped by 
a pair of soft hands and a dear, kind voice, which 
asked: 



' * V 

IT WAS AUNT LUCY OF COURSE 


“Where is Bonny Prince going? Is he afraid 
of that big pony?” 













30 


BONNY PRINCE 


It was Aunt Lucy, of course, who was always near 
when one was most miserable and needed a soothing 
word more than anything else in the world. 

She talked to me until I began to feel almost happy 
again, and later, when Howard’s mama came out, 
we all went over to the road to watch the boys gallop 
past on Fleetfoot. When they came up to us they 
stopped and Howard and his friend got off to show 
the pony and saddle to better advantage. Howard 
asked where Bonny Prince was, and when I stepped 
out from behind Aunt Lucy he began to laugh and 
wonder why I was hiding. Lee Elliot forgot all 
about having scolded me, and took both my fore 
paws in his hands and made me sit up straight. 
The pony seemed to think that this was very clever 
and came over and breathed in my ear. Then I 
began to believe that they all meant well, and per¬ 
haps, after all, my rival was not so bad. 


CHAPTER V 


Better Than a Fairy Prince 

It was about a week after I first became acquainted 
with Fleetfoot, that Master Howard went with his 
papa to visit a family of cousins some miles away. 

Very early in the morning the pony was turned 
out in the shady park to graze and then Howard 
came and told me all about his intended trip. He 
expected to have a delightful day in the country, 
and the only thing he regretted was leaving me 
behind, but he said that some time we would both 
go and remain a week and perhaps it would be 
possible to take Fleetfoot too. Of course I would 
have liked to accompany my little master, but 
since he thought it best for me to stay my only 
thought was to make him believe that I did not 
mind it at all, so I wagged my tail vigorously and 
jumping up on the bench beside him I put both my 
fore paws on his shoulder and threw off his hat with 
my nose. Now, Howard was dressed in his very best 
suit and his hat had not been worn before, and any 

31 


32 


BONNY PRINCE 


other boy would probably have scolded me for 
my violent caresses. But Master Howard only 
tightened his arms around me and said I was the 
most unselfish dog in the world. His papa then 
came out and he, too, wore his finest clothes. 

“Are you ready, Howard, my man?” he asked in 
his pleasant way. And then stooping over me 
patted my head, saying he would call at the butcher’s 
coming back. As a parting message he told me to 
“take good care of mama and Aunt Lucy,” and 
then he and Howard started off, I following them 
to the front gate to bid them good-by. When 
they disappeared I lay down and with a sigh 
stretched myself on the soft grass. 

How I got out of the yard I do not know; I 
simply found myself in a large meadow, the half of 
which was covered with snowy sheep. I had not 
come to harm the peaceful animals, but on the 
contrary, was there to watch over them. They were 
very close together with all their heads facing 
towards a great, rushing river at the foot of the hill. 
Two men, mounted on white horses, were across the 
river, but when one raised his arm and called to me 
I could understand him quite plainly. 



BETTER THAN A FAIRY PRINCE? 


33 


“Keep them out of the water, Bonny Prince! 
Turn them away from the water!” 

I sprang to my feet and ran as hard as I could to 
place myself between the sheep and the river, but it 
was too late. Something had frightened the sheep 
and they came tearing down the hill in a bunch. 
Down, down they all fell into the raging waters; 
and as they swept round a bend in the river, I could 
not distinguish their white fleeces from the mass of 
foam. I bounded forward and landed—in a rose¬ 
bush. This awakened me, but my head was all in a 
muddle. The thorns tangled in my thick hair and 
pricked my tender flesh. 

I was glad to be at home and not accountable for 
the foolish sheep that had fallen into the river, 
but I wished that I had not dreamed such a bad 
dream, causing me to jump into a thorny rosebush. 
I was slowly working my way out when I heard the 
gate click faintly and to my surprise saw two men 
pass me. They both wore black rags tied over their 
faces and talked in low tones, but all I could hear 
was, “thousands.” 

By the time I succeeded in getting out of the bush 
they had reached the door and were trying to open 


34 


BONNY PRINCE 


it. Luckily it was locked and they stood back 
and whispered until I crept up and hid behind 
some shrubbery a few feet away. After a moment, 
one of the men knocked very loudly and in a short 
time the door was opened by Mrs. French, and I 



BONNY PRINCE JUMPS INTO A ROSE BUSH 


caught a glimpse of Aunt Lucy just as the two 
strangers sprang into the room, then the door was 
banged so noisily that the house shook. 

It was summer and the windows were open, I 
lost no time in tearing my way through the screening 







BETTER THAN A FAIRY PRINCE 


35 


and landed in the middle of the room. It was 
quiet enough there, but in the next apartment was 
wild confusion. The two men had taken possession 
of the house and were throwing things about, asking 
in loud voices where was the “old man’s brass,” 
and the “old woman’s silver?” 

I did not understand their meaning, but my 
mind was filled with one thought, I ran across the 
room and the next moment one of the thieves lay 
struggling on the floor, my sharp teeth fastened in 
his throat. He tried to shout but could not, so 
fast did I hold him. He just moaned out what I 
think must have been words of cursing, for I am 
sure they were new to me. He gave his head a 
little twist to one side and managed to gasp, “shoot 
the wolf.” 

By this time the other man had reached the out¬ 
side of the house and fired a shot through the window. 
Being a coward as well as a rogue, he then fled, 
leaving his friend at my mercy. After my first 
excitement was over I did not wish to kill the bad 
man, so I slowly loosened my grip, but I found that 
he lay very still, his face had a queer black color. 
This did not disturb me, I sat up to look for Mrs. 


36 


BONNY PRINCE 


French and Aunt Lucy. Mrs. French was near at 
hand for she lay across a bed and I was a little 
worried at seeing her look so pale. 



I will always be proud of the way Aunt Lucy acted 
that day. Instead of fainting as most ladies would 
have done in her place she went straight to the 
telephone and called up the police. Then, while the 
robber was still lying motionless on the floor, and Mrs. 



BETTER THAN A FAIRY PRINCE 


37 


French was sitting in a big chair with Aunt Lucy 
bending over her, three fat men wearing stars on 
their coats tramped in without knocking. 

The first thing one 
of them said was: 

“Snakes alive! the 
Collie’s after finishing 
the man I’ve been after 
for ten years! I won¬ 
der where will the five 
hundred dollars’ re¬ 
ward go. Just my 
rotten luck.” 

As the policeman 
was speaking, the 
robber moved a 
little, and I went 
and lay at his feet, 
to be able to watch his face. He drew his heavy 
boot up very slowly, and then sent it out like a 
flash. I felt as though I had broken through a 
thick stone wall and everything on the other side 
was dark as pitch. 

When I came back to life, Master Howard’s arms 



THE POLICEMAN 


88 


BONNY PRINCE 


were around me and his rosy face was wet with 
tears. Mrs.. French was crying, too, and Mr. 
French was talking excitedly, which was an un¬ 
usual thing for him to do. Aunt Lucy laughed all 
the while and ran her slim fingers through my 
hair. She said afterwards that the whole family 
were crazy with gratitude. Howard’s papa calmed 
down presently and told me that he had not for¬ 
gotten to call at the butcher’s. He then brought 
me out a dish of my favorite meat, cut in nice, thin 
slices, and while I ate eagerly, they all sat near and 
smiled upon me. 

“A real prince could not have ’fended you any 
better, could he, Aunt Lucy?” asked Howard after 
a short pause. 

“No, dearie,” answered his aunt, solemnly. “Few 
princes could have been more timely or more brave 
than our pet.” Then she added, with a bright 
look at little master, “He is even better than a 
fairy prince.” 


CHAPTER VI 


Miss Sibyl Overbright 

For a little while after I captured the wicked robber, 
I attracted so much attention that it made me 
uncomfortable. Wherever I went, people would 
point at me and say, “There’s the dog now. Hand¬ 
some, isn’t he? pure Collie, I believe.” One man 
with long whiskers said that I wasn’t a pure Collie at 
all; I was just “cross.” It made me very angry 
to be spoken of in this manner, for it was he, and 
not I, that was out of humor. I felt happy and 
wagged my tail all the time, which was the only 
way I had of thanking people for their compliments. 

After a few days (I think it was nine), everybody 
seemed to have forgotten all about me and my 
brave act. I was passed on the street without a 
second glance, and although I walked very proudly 
no one gave me more than half the sidewalk. Well, 
I was young then, but I have since learned that a 
fellow might capture a whole army of thieves and 
his name would be forgotten in a few hours. I said 

39 


40 


BONNY PRINCE 


every one overlooked me, but of course I do not 
include Howard or any of the rest of the family in 
this list of selfish humanity. Hardly a day passed 
without little master reminding me of being his 
“dear hero dog;” and then, to show his apprecia¬ 



tion, he did something that I considered both clever 
and thoughtful. 

On those warm afternoons, I made it a practice 
to take a nap on a bed of moss under a low-branching 
tree. It was exceedingly cool there and I was very 
comfortable. The bed of moss I suppose belonged 













MISS SIBYL OVERBRIGHT 


41 


to Mrs. French, but as she had often found me 
there and made no remark, I saw no reason why I 
should give it up. To be sure, some pretty blossoms 
at times appeared and I enjoyed them, but usually 
the plants were pressed too close to the ground to 
make much show. 

At any rate, I awoke one evening after a long 
refreshing sleep and was surprised to see a slim r 
yellow chain dangling from behind my ear. I got up 
and shook myself, thinking I had fallen into my old 
habit of dreaming, and then I noticed for the first 
time that my collar had grown quite heavy while I 
slept. I shook myself again to make sure and was 
startled to hear a strange laugli close behind me. 
Looking up, I saw the smiling faces of Master 
Howard, his papa and mama, Aunt -Lucy, and a 
strange young lady, on the vine-covered porch. I 
quickly ran up the steps, and as I passed the visitor 
she put out her hand and stopped me. 

“So this is Bonny Prince,” she said, laughing and 
laying her head on one side. “I saw you over on 
the flower bed studying botany and I had no idea 
that you were so pretty.” 

“Run in, Howard, for a mirror, and let Bonny 


42 


BONNY PRINCE 


Prince see how handsome he really is,” said Mr. 
French, looking at me proudly. 

In a moment Howard returned with a wide, 
bright glass and held it up before me. The first 



thing I saw was a beautiful gold collar which fitted 
snugly about my neck, from it hung the gold chain 
that had puzzled me when I first awoke and I knew 









MISS SIBYL OVERBRIGHT 


43 


from the joyous face of Master Howard that it was he 
who had given me this fine present. Not knowing 
how , to thank him, I licked his hands and looked 
into his face, then I laid my head close against his 
knees. 

“See, Miss Overbright!” exclaimed Mrs. French, 
a dmir ingly, “how that dog tries to speak his grati¬ 
tude for his gold collar.” 

“Bless his heart! Is that the first time he knew 
he wore a collar?” asked the young lady, opening 
wide her big eyes. 

“He had a silver collar,” explained Aunt Lucy, 
“and Howard changed it while he slept, and now he 
knows the difference at once.” 

“You’ll have to look for a guardian right away, 
Howard,” Miss Overbright said, turning to little 
master, “for the collar is very valuable—more so 
than the Collie, I guess.” 

“Money wouldn’t buy that dog,” Mr. French 
remarked in a decided tone, and as I looked at him 
gratefully he put out his hand and the next moment 
his fingers closed over my paw. I then thought it 
only polite to shake hands with the whole company. 


44 


BONNY PRINCE 


When it came to Miss Oversight's turn, she looked 
at me with pretended astonishment. 

“Dearie, me!" she cried, “hasn't he unnaturally 
big feet?" 

Upon hearing this remark I felt very much 
ashamed of my feet, and lying down flat I gathered 
them, out of sight, under me. At this, everybody 
laughed loudly—that is, all except Master Howard, 
who said, looking very solemn, 

“Miss Sibyl, you must remember Bonny Prince is 
a large dog." 

“Sure enough," she answered, with another merry 
laugh; “and I am afraid that he has better manners 
than I. But Lucy knows that I was always rather 
critical and before I have done with Bonny Prince 
I want to know if he is really and truly a Scotch 
Collie." 

“I should say so," spoke out Master Howard. 
“Why, everybody knows that!" 

“I believe he is a true Scotchie," returned Mr. 
French, smiling at Howard's enthusiasm. “At 
least, I was told so by the old gentleman of whom I 
bought him when he was only a scrap of a pup. I 
know he cost me fifty dollars. 


MISS SIBYL OVERBRIGHT 


45 


“He has such beautiful curly hair. Although I 
never saw a Collie before, I was under the impression 
that their hair was short,” remarked Miss Overbright, 
smoothing my neck as she talked. 

“Maybe Bonnie Prince is a freak of nature. He's 
a dear, anyhow. Did you notice the inscription on 
his collar, Sibyl?” asked Aunt Lucy. 

Miss Overbright bent over me and read aloud, 

“Bonny Prince. For courage. May 17, 1892.” 

As she finished reading, I was called to supper, and 
off I bounded with Howard skipping close behind 
me. 

I did not like Miss Sibyl Overbright very much. 
She seemed to have made up her mind to make fun 
of me. 


CHAPTER VII 

My First Meeting With a Mole 

The happy, short-lived days went by, and Miss 
Sibyl was with us yet. I knew her very well now 
and liked her much better than at first, though she 
still teased me a great deal and had lately called me 
by no other name than “Scamp.” Naturally my 
feelings were hurt before I became accustomed to it, 
but Howard told me that it was just a joke and no 
reflection on my character. 

“You see,” he explained, “Miss Sibyl thinks that 
I am too proud of you, and she can’t help saying 
funny things—for it is funny for my noble Prince 
to be called a ‘scamp.’” 

At another time my young master gave me some 
more interesting information. 

“Miss Sibyl has always been petted and made much 
of herself, and I think she’s just a little bit jealous 
of you, Bonny Prince, because you are so wise 
though you are only a dog. But listen, Bonny 
Prince, Miss Sibyl’s all right, and if you ever get into 
a pickle, go to her.” 

40 


MY FIRST MEETING WITH A MOLE 


47 


Although Howard gave this advice in all serious¬ 
ness he did not think that I would ever be obliged 
to follow it. 

He was talking to me in this confidential manner 
when we saw Miss Overbright coming across the 
lawn with a plate in her hands. 

“Well, boys/’ she said as she came within hearing 
distance, “here is some prize candy. Five pieces for 
Howard and three pieces for Scamp; that’s short 
division, isn’t it, laddie?” 

Howard smiled broadly as he took the plate and 
politely asked Miss Sibyl to help herself, to which 
kind invitation she replied that having made the 
candy she had already done it ample justice. 

“I’d have eaten it all, if I were you, it’s so good,” 
said Howard, graciously. “You make lots better 
candy than Aunt Lucy does.” 

“Ah! I know the cause of this flattery,” Miss 
Sibyl answered gaily. “You want me to compli¬ 
ment the dog, and I must say that he really looks 
smart enough to kill a mole. I am going to put him 
to the test.” 

Saying this she took hold of the little chain which 
was fastened to my collar and led me across the 


48 


BONNY PRINCE 


yard, Howard walking beside me asking questions 
as he went. 

When we came near the fence, Miss Sibyl halted, 
and pointing to a row of fresh-looking piles of 
earth she exclaimed, “Go after him, Scamp!” 



I did not know what she meant, but thinking 
that she referred to Fleetfoot, I started off in the 
direction of the park. Miss Sibyl could hardly call 
me back, being so amused by my mistake, but 










MY FIRST MEETING WITH A MOLE 49 

finally she made me understand that the thing to be 
captured was under the ground. 

“Oh, Scamp! Scamp!” she cried, as she pressed my 
nose close to the soft, crumbly earth, “All this talk 
will scare the mole away. You are the dullest dog 
I ever saw, but if you have any use whatever of your 
feet, scratch, and scratch hard.” 

My feelings were hurt, but I had no time to look 
for sympathy from Howard, who stood near by with 
his hands thrust deeply into his pockets and his face 
full of interest. My feet flew with lightning-like 
rapidity and a dim picture of a squirrel on a treadmill 
came before my mental vision as I threw pecks of 
dirt over my back and into my eyes. All at once 
something soft and sleek and fat rolled out between 
my front paws and Miss Overbright gave a little 
scream and threw up her hands, thereby giving 
Howard an opportunity to revenge the slighting 
remarks that had been made concerning my stupid¬ 
ity. Beginning to dance in a circle around the young 
lady, he sang out, 

“You're it, Miss Sibyl, you're it. Afraid of a mole? 
You bet!” 

“You young Mohawk!” exclaimed Miss Sibyl, 


50 


BONNY PRINCE 


trying in vain to keep down her laughter. “I am not 
in the least afraid of a mole, but I was so fascinated 
watching the dog work as if for his life that I forgot 
all about the mole.” 

“Honest now, Miss Sibyl, you thought Bonny 
Prince couldn’t catch a mole.” 

“I thought it had escaped.” 

As I had been listening to the conversation of my 
two friends, I lost track for a little while of the mole 
itself. Slowly it made its way back to the soft ground 
and started to go down the hole head foremost but 
Howard’s quick eye took in the situation, and he 
called to me. 

“Finish your job, Bonny Prince, kill him! kill 
him! 

I hated to take the damp, cold thing into my 
mouth even to please Howard. What was the use, 
anyhow, after I had dug it out so neatly? 

“Kill him!” commanded my master again. Then 
I remembered having seen Rover, a neighbor’s dog, 
kill a rat, and I thought him very brave and very 
skillful. 

Shutting my eyes, I quickly grabbed what I 
thought was the mole, but which proved to be only 


MY FIRST MEETING WITH A MOLE 


51 


a thick, short stick. Miss Overbright laughed in a 
way that jarred on my nerves. However I picked 
up the real mole which had crawled off to a consider¬ 
able distance, and shook it with all my might. Again 
and again I repeated the operation, gaining more 
skill each time. I was so dizzy that I could scarcely 
stand when Howard finally put a hand on my collar 
and said, 

“He’s dead as anything, now, Bonny Prince, 
let him go.” 

Little master praised me much for what I had done 
and even Miss Sibyl remarked that I was wise beyond 
my years, which was a great deal for her to say. 

Aunt Lucy seemed very proud of me when Howard 
told her that I had not left a whole bone in the 
mole’s body, but the jolliest thing of all was my 
dream the next night. I thought that I had slain 
enough moles to build a mountain, and had killed 
Rover, the neighbor’s dog, by mistake. 


CHAPTER VIII 
What a Beautiful World 

It was nearly the end of the month of August and 
something of the feeling of early fall was creeping 
into the air. 

I can not attempt to describe the beauty of that 
time. I can not tell you as a human writer would 
of the wonderful bursting forth of the flowers in 
bloom as if they wanted to show all that was most 
lovely in them before the frost came to take their 
lives away, nor of the birds which gathered in great 
armies in the trees nearest the house and sang all 
day long. Sometimes, while listening to their voices 
I would become wild with delight and frolic about 
with the pure joy of living; then a great loneliness 
would come over me, just as if I had lost some 
dear friend, you know, that I could never find any 
more. 

The apples in the orchard were ripe, and it was a 
pleasure to look upon the long rows of trees, bending 
low under their burdens of ruddy fruit. One day 
while chasing a rabbit in and out among the trees, I 

52 


WHAT A BEAUTIFUL WORLD 


53 


stopped suddenly upon discovering a number of 
apples lying about, each covered with holes, as if 
some foolish person had taken a spoon and scooped 
out the pretty black seeds. I was trying to think 
what had caused this, when I heard a gentle whinny 
near by, and looking up I saw Fleetfoot leaning 



BONNY CARRIES APPLES TO FLEETFOOT 


over the fence with an eager, hungry expression in 
his eyes. Knowing his fondness for apples, I 
guessed at once the meaning of his plaintive calls. 
For a moment I thought that perhaps he was the 
destroyer of the fruit, but I was sorry immediately 
for having thus wronged him, for even if he could 





























54 


BONNY PRINCE 


have climbed the high fence (which was simply 
impossible), it would not be like him to peck great 
holes in the apples instead of swallowing all in one 
mouthful as was his habit. Selecting three of the 
ripest apples that had remained untouched, I carried 
them one at a time to the fence and dropped them 
over to the pony, who thanked me as plainly as a 
wordless creature can thank any one. When I saw 
his gratitude and keen enjoyment I felt repaid for 
any trouble I had taken. 

Upon my return after my kindness to Fleetfoot, I 
glanced up into a tree, and down came a big red 
apple almost hitting me between the two eyes. 
Hardly had it reached the ground with the dull thud 
that is customary to falling apples when I heard 
the soft rush of feet and saw a long, black plume 
floating in the direction from which the sound had 
come, a red head appeared in advance of the plume, 
and the next moment I heard a jarring noise. I 
took in the situation at a glance; it was the old, 
black rooster, “Proud Cock,” calling all hendom to 
a feast. And they came, a dozen or more of them, 
fluttering and cackling with satisfaction. Scarcely 
had they begun on the first apple when another was 


WHAT A BEAUTIFUL WORLD 


55 


so accommodating as to tumble down in their 
midst. Of course Proud Cock took all the credit 
for this one also and nodded and bowed and scratched 
the earth in a way that was really disgusting. The 
hens rushed forward chattering their thanks and 
buried their bills in the luscious fruit. 



"THERE WAS A GENERAL SCATTERING” 


I could stand no more of this foolishness so I 
jumped high in the air and when I came down again 
there was a general scattering. I never saw chickens 
so badly scared in my life. Proud Cock started to 
crow, but the attempt ended in a silly little gurgle 
as he sped over low bushes and high fences. 













56 


BONNY PRINCE 


Miss Sibyl, who stood at the door enjoying the 
scenery, naturally saw what was going on in the 
orchard. 

“Oh, Howard,” she called to little master who 
was mending a swing a short distance from the 
house, “that Crown Prince of yours is killing chickens 
in the apple-orchard. Now has he not proven him¬ 
self a scamp ?” 

Howard skipped across the lawn, and coming near 
the orchard understood at once my intentions in 
regard to the chickens. He went back to the house 
without delay and made known to the family my 
worth as a care-taker. I was then called to the 
summer kitchen, and with many fine compliments, 
none of which were new to me, I was given a dish of 
cold milk, and a real treat it was, for my recent 
exertions had tired me. 

After that, I guarded the orchard carefully, and 
whenever the poultry dined on apples it was on 
state occasions, such, for instance, as on Proud 
Cock’s birthday. One old hen particularly dis¬ 
liked me and no matter where I walked she pre¬ 
tended that I was in some way injuring her brood 
of little chicks and a'ways made this an excuse to 


WHAT A BEAUTIFUL WORLD 


57 


beat me with her stubby, ill-shaped wings. How¬ 
ever, I paid little attention to her attacks, I had 
the law on my side, and if I did not have order also 
it was certainly no fault of mine. 


CHAPTER IX 
Getting Ready 

I had noticed that for several days Aunt Lucy and 
Miss Sibyl were busier and more absorbed in them¬ 
selves than I had ever seen them. They were 
always in a hurry and seemed to be always carrying 
something from one room to another. They never 
stopped to chat with Master Howard or me, but 
simply called remarks to us as they rushed past. 
A couple of new servants came to the house and 
appeared to have no object in life but hanging 
rugs and carpets on the clothes-line and beating 
them cruelly with large sticks. Then a man wearing 
a long beard arrived, and at once took the piano 
to pieces. Howard and I watched him all the time 
he was at work. The old fellow said something 
about a mouse’s nest and I scratched the side of the 
piano to show that I was ready to do my duty 
by the mice. The tuner, being out of humor, did 
not like me to interfere, and pushing me roughly 
aside he said, “Jupiter!” very crossly out of the 
depths of his whiskers. I was glad when he gathered 


GETTING READY 


59 



up his satchel and other 
belongings to depart. How¬ 
ard was glad, too, for he 
ran to the door and opened 
it, but the old fellow did not 
bow or say “Thank you;” 
but just shuffled through 
and was off. 

When he was gone, Aunt 
Lucy and Miss Sibyl played 
on the piano, and it sound¬ 
ed delightful. Howard and 
I left the room in a few 
minutes, and as we sat on 
the doorstep he told me the 
cause of the unusual stir 
and bustle. 

“It’s the ball, Bonny 
Prince, that Aunt Lucy is 
going to give in honor of 
Miss Sibyl before she goes 
away. Oh! but it will be 
splendid, because they are 
taking such pains. Do you 


THE PIANO TUNER 













60 


BONNY PRINCE 


know what a ball is, 
Bonny Prince ?” 

Much to the surprise 
of my young master, I 
bounded away in the 
direction of the wood¬ 
shed. My mind was full 
of lively thoughts. If I 
had only understood the 
situation in time, how 
much trouble and worry 
I could have saved! Just 
to think of the whole 
house being torn up and 
the piano taken apart in 
search of a ball, while I 
had a beautiful one made 
of rubber put safely away 
in a tin box. Aunt Lucy 
wanted to give Miss Sibyl 
a ball to honor her and I 
would let her have mine, 
and then everything 
would be restored to its 
old time peace and order. 



CARRYING THE BALL TO 
AUNT LUCY 





















GETTING READY 


61 


Overjoyed with my thoughtfulness, I nosed 
around among my possessions until I came to the 
large rubber ball that had been a Christmas gift 
from Howard’s papa, taking it in my mouth I 
scampered back to my young master, who was still 
sitting on the doorstep, whistling softly to himself. 

“Want to play ball?” he asked, as he saw me 
approach. I shook my head and hurried on. 

“Want to play catch?” he persisted. Again I 
shook my head, and without further ado I went into 
the house in search of Aunt Lucy, Howard following, 
his eyes big with wonder. 

I found the ladies in the library, and going up to 
Aunt Lucy I deposited the ball in one of her hands. 

“Why! what’s this for?” she asked, looking very 
much puzzled. 

I took hold of her sleeve and led her across the 
room to Miss Sibyl, who glanced at Aunt Lucy 
vacantly, and said, “Well, I never!” “What ails 
Bonny Prince anyhow?” queried Aunt Lucy, turning 
to Howard with a perplexed smile. 

All at once a light dawned on little master who was 
always quick to understand things. “You see I 
told him about your ball, and he didn’t understand,” 


62 


BONNY PRINCE 


explained the merry lad, laughing and swaying from 
side to side. I laughed, too, because Howard did, 
and Aunt Lucy put her arms around me and said 
that I was the dearest dog in the world. 

Miss Sibyl behaved very graciously, for she gave 
me two pieces of candy, and while she pinched my 
nose she remarked that I was “very unselfish with 
my play things,” or something to that effect. 

Then Aunt Lucy explained something about the 
ball, concluding with the information that she was 
going to give an extra big supper one evening in 
the near future and invited Howard and me to be 
present. 

As I did not require any more enlightenment, 
I shook hands with all my friends, and then went out 
of the room, feeling both foolish and happy. 

1 


CHAPTER X 
The Ball 

Fleetfoot had been making himself very useful 
during the busy days which preceded Aunt Lucy's 
ball. He was not sent out to the park for a whole 
week, remaining in the dooryard ready to be saddled 
and ridden at a moment's notice and when he was 
once mounted no matter by whom, he was off like a 
flash. I often thought that if any pony deserved 
the name of “Fleetfoot" it was surely my little friend. 
As for myself, I am afraid that I was more orna¬ 
mental than useful, I was so amazed at the many 
preparations going on that I made no effort to get 
out of people's way—much less lend any assistance. 
Being somewhat downcast at my present worthless¬ 
ness I was more than delighted on the morning of 
the great event to hear Master Howard call out in a 
cheery voice, 

“Come on, Bonny Prince, and help me get the 
flowers." 

He was untying Fleetfoot, and while doing so 
he left his riding whip on the ground near by. I was 


64 


BONNY PRINCE 


feeling unusually merry, catching it up in my 
teeth I ran down the lane as hard as I could go, with 
Master Howard on the pony trying to overtake me. 
I kept ahead of them for a short distance, striking 
out in the direction where the goldenrod grew, for I 



RUNNING AWAY WITH HOWARD'S WHIP 


knew that this was Aunt Lucy’s favorite flower for 
decoration. The first clump of weeds that I came to 
served as a screen to hide me from Howard and into 
this I jumped with as much force as I could muster. 
To my delight I found a trickling stream right in 
the heart of the cool green plants, I laid aside my 
(?) riding whip and started to drink and the water 
tasted so good that I forgot to be cautious, hardly 
had I finished the refreshing draught when I was 



THE BALL 


65 


suddenly seized upon just as a big bear would catch 
hold of an innocent lamb. 

“Oh, you old thief; to steal my new riding whip!” 
shouted Howard in my ears, but his eyes danced so 
merrily that I knew he considered it one of my 
brightest tricks. 

I could not be insulted with impunity, so I barked 
at Howard as I pushed him down on to the grass 
and put my front paws on his chest, when he again 
scrambled to his feet and we both came out into 
the open, making so much noise that any horse 
except Fleetfoot would certainly have become 
frightened and run away. 

When Howard got on the pony I sprang up also 
for I was beginning to get tired and we rode slowly 
off to the place where the flowers grew. Upon our 
arrival, little master began to gather great clusters of 
goldenrod and wild daisies and of course I started in 
to help him, he turned and caught me at this work. 

“Stop, Bonny Prince!” he commanded excitedly, 
and I quickly spat out the stems that were in my 
mouth, wondering at the same time at the sharpness 
of his usually gentle voice. 

“Those stems would poison you, pet,” he said 


66 


BONNY PRINCE 


kindly, as he examined my tongue. “And Bonny 
Prince, if you were poisoned or anything else should 
separate you from me I would not care to live any 


more, and that’s 
all there is 
about it.” 



Ah, how fond 
little master was 
of me! It was 
well that neither 
he nor I could 
see into the dark 
future, for then 
his laugh would 
not have been 
so clear and 
sweet, nor would 


HOWARD PICKING GOLDEN ROD 


my bark have echoed so cheerily over those green 
hills that day. 

When a sufficient supply of flowers and grasses 
had been picked, Howard wrapped the stems of a 
bunch of “Brown-Eyed-Susans” in his handker¬ 
chief and gave them to me to carry home. 

When we arrived at the house we found that a 


THE BALL 


67 


number of changes had been made during our short 
absence which transformed the place into a dream¬ 
land of beauty. 

The trees which were nicely shaped, grew in long 
rows, and from each tree hung a colored Chinese 
lantern, which moved about at every breath of air. 
The doors and windows were open and I could see 
one long room with a polished floor and no furniture 
excepting a piano. 

Howard laid his hand on my head and we walked 
around to the dining-room in which a table was set 
that one might look at forever and then not grow 
weary, it was so laden with beautiful glass and silver 
dishes and flowers. 

We delivered our flowers to Aunt Lucy, who was 
overjoyed with the wealth of blossoms, and gave each 
of us a piece of cake for our trouble. We met Mrs. 
French in the doorway and she smiled at us, and 
taking off Howard's hat she ran her fingers through 
his damp curls and said: 

“How warm you are, precious!" 

When we returned to the house I was surprised to 
see a strange man on the piazza talking to Howard's 
papa—a stranger to me, but not to my little master, 


68 


BONNY PRINCE 


for he ran directly to the young man with hands 
outstretched and called in a glad voice, “Uncle 
Fred! Uncle Fred!” 

As the visitor smiled down at the boy I noticed 
how much like Howard's father he looked, only much 
younger, for Mr. French seemed to have grown old in 
the last few weeks, during which I had seen him but 
seldom. Three months ago his hair had been quite 
dark, but now so many white threads were sprinkled 
through it that it gave his pale face a very tired and 
worn look. At present, however, he appeared 
bright and cheerful—for the reason, I suppose, that 
his brother was admiring Howard's muscular arms 
and generally healthy appearance. Mr. French was 
as proud of little master as the latter was of me. 
After a few minutes' conversation with Howard, 
Uncle Fred turned to me and patted me on the neck. 
“And so this is Bonny Prince,” he said, “that great 
dog that you told me so much about in your letters. 
Well, he is a beauty, and no mistake.” 

“And clever, too, Uncle Fred,” chimed in Howard. 
“I know you never met a more intelligent dog in all 
you travels.” 

“Let's see,” said Uncle Fred, laughing, “can he 


THE BALL 


jump over a cane?” He held out a gold-headed cane 
and I jumped over it with the greatest ease. 

“Good!” he exclaimed with all the enthusiasm of 
a boy. “What else does Bonny Prince know?” 

“Everything,” cried Master Howard, clapping his 
hands. 

“Then Fll retire,” said Uncle Fred, “before he 
finds out how ignorant I am.” 

“Don’t mind, Uncle,” said Howard mischievously, 
“Bonny Prince is used to foolish people.” 

Mr. French, who had been watching and listening 
in silence, smiled as he drew out his watch and looked 
at it. Little master took this as a sign of his father’s 
departure, and going over to him he leaned against 
his chair. 

“You don’t have to go to your office any more 
to-day, do you papa? Stay for Aunt Lucy’s ball,” 
he pleaded. 

“Business can not wait, my son,” replied Mr. 
French, but I need not go down until after dinner.” 
Then after a moment he added, “And I don’t know 
when I will be back.” 

Uncle Fred had taken a seat and was looking very 
sober. 


70 


BONNY PRINCE 


“See here, Tom,” he said in a low voice, “Smash 
or no smash, I think you had better try and save 
yourself.” I thought this very strange talk just 
then, but in less than a week I had reason to know 
exactly what it meant. 

Aunt Lucy’s guests came at the appointed hour, 
and as carriage after carriage arrived, Howard and I 
became more and more excited. Twice I forgot 
myself and barked at a group of people whom I did 
not like because they trod on various parts of my 
body. On both occasions little master put his 
hands over my mouth and called me a “rude Prince.” 
Servants hurried to and fro, glasses clinked and 
lights beamed on every side, I actually trembled with 
the strangeness of it all. Presently the cook came 
out and invited Howard into the house. 

“Oh, thank you,” said little master hurriedly, 
“but if you will send us a snack of something good 
out here, Bonny Prince and I will get along finely.” 

Two ladies standing in a doorway overheard this 
request, and one remarked to the other, “What an 
odd little boy! Is he Mr. French’s son?” 

The second lady said “yes,” and then in a lower 
tone, “Lonely little fellow, I’m afraid.” 


THE BALL 


71 


We had an excellent supper of everything we liked 
best, and while we enjoyed it there came sounds from 
within of the most glorious music that one can imagine. 
It seemed to fill the whole world with harmony, when 
it ceased a voice rose up in song. It was a fine voice, 
soft and clear, it affected me very strangely, had I been 
given to tears I would surely have shed some, for 
I was quite overcome with emotion. Howard’s 
fingers stole into my long hair and drawing my head 
over to him he told me that it was Uncle Fred who 
was singing, he also informed me that his talented 
uncle had studied music in several countries across 
the ocean. 

“But what does it all amount to, Bonny Prince?” 
concluded my wise little master. “You and I have 
not traveled anywhere and we are just as happy as 
if we had gone the world over.” 

I turned and licked his hand to let him know that 
I thought it mattered little where we lived or 
roamed since he and I were together. 


CHAPTER XI 
“Good-Bye, Bonny Prince'' 

From light into darkness it seemed to be, for the 
morning after Aunt Lucy’s ball a heavy mist had 
taken the place of the ideal weather of the previous 
day. The air was close and sultry and a peculiar 
gloominess had settled over everything. 

To make matters worse, no one was stirring about 
the house, even restless little Howard appeared to 
have overslept. The unusual stillness gave me an 
uneasy feeling, and to relieve this I went down to the 
park to seek comfort from Fleetfoot whom I found 
grazing in one corner. On my way there I came 
across my old enemy the hen with the numerous 
chickens that were always getting in my path, I shut 
my eyes and purposely ran through them, and in an 
instant mother biddy was clinging to my back. 
In my fright I forgot to open my eyes and rushed 
into a plank fence which made me see stars. When 
the confusion was over and the loving hen mother 
returned to her family, I approached Fleetfoot and 
led him home. Arriving there I found Howard 


GOOD-BYE, BONNY PRINCE 73 

leaning over the gate waiting for me, and as it 
happened that the pony was just what he wanted 
he nearly choked me in the fullness of his gratitude, 
at the same time calling me “a mind-reading dog.” 
I did not know exactly what kind of a dog this was, 
but was quite confident that it meant something 
more than ordinarily good. Having saddled Fleet- 
foot Howard was but a short time mounting and I, 
not caring to ride, trotted beside him up and down 
the lane for half an hour. 

After breakfast we went to visit Lester Winters. 
Early in the forenoon it began to rain quite heavily, 
so we stayed in the house and played games and a 
jolly time we had, too. Lester’s mama, who was a 
nice lady, fried some cakes and made tea. I had a 
cup of tea with the rest of the people, but I drank 
mine out of a wooden saucer. When the boys 
played marbles I would chase the cunning glass 
balls and knock them clear across the floor with 
my paws. Of course I spoiled the game but I 
suppose I looked comical for Howard and Lester 
laughed very heartily. Pretty soon Lester’s mama 
brought a handsome, woolly rug and, placing it in 
one corner of the room, said, “Here, Bonny Prince, 


74 


BONNY PRINCE. 


lie down and rest on this nice, soft bed.” I obeyed 
her and remained a long time silently watching 
the fun, but at length a big colored marble rolled 
past me and I jumped up and went after it. When 
Howard had taken the marble from between my 



paws, I returned to my rug and lay down heavily. 
All at once there was a great sound of spitting and 
growling and I discovered that I had sat upon a 
large, yellow cat. The boys screamed with merri¬ 
ment and I was so frightened that I thought the 
cat was growing bigger every minute as it stood 















GOOD-BYE, BONNY PRINCE 74 

there and faced me. I went to the farther side of 
the rug and dropped down softly for I did not think it 
worth while to enter into a fight, but I felt just then 
thoroughly convinced that cats are much too 
plentiful. 

Some time in the afternoon we started for home 
and it was not until we arrived there that the loneli¬ 
ness which I had felt in the early part of the day 
returned to me. The weather had cleared up, 
but the branches of the trees were dripping still 
from the morning rain, the air was cool and every¬ 
thing was so unusually noiseless that I was almost 
afraid to step across the gravelled walk, lest I should 
awaken some one or something. Howard noticed 
it too for he said as he tiptoed up to a window and 
looked in, 

“I wonder if the folks are at home,” and then^ as 
he strained his eyes against the pane, “I see mama— 
but, Bonny Prince, you can’t come in unless you 
change your muddy shoes.” 

That night my sleep was troubled and broken. 
I heard an owl hoot in a tree near by and I 
jumped up trembling with fear, then for a little while 
I slept and I was again a tiny puppy on Howard’s 


76 


BONNY PRINCE 


lap, he was pouring his childish troubles into my 
ears and rocked me in his little chair, calling me, 
“Dear puppy Prince.” Suddenly a great wall sprang 
up, the sides were smooth and high and Howard 
was leaning over the top, his face drawn as if in 
pain. I whined and put up my paws, I was wild 
to reach him, but little master spoke in a voice 
that was strange and new to me, 

“Don’t try it, pet. Good-bye, Bonny Prince.” 
I sprang up with a moan and found myself alone in 
the dark, everything was peaceful and still except 
for the call of the katydids in the low bushes at my 
side. How relieved I was to find that my tormenting 
experience was nothing but a dream after all! 
Yet when the moon came out from behind a cloud, 
my nerves were so unstrung I could not help sitting 
down and howling with all my might, and this I kept 
up until a window opened in the upper part of the 
house, and a man’s voice called out harshly: 

“Down! Let hup there, you, or I’ll fill yer 
bloomin’ hide full of shot.” The window with a 
fierce bang was shut and the remainder of my night 
was filled with a succession of bad dreams. 

The next morning my breakfast was brought to me 


GOOD-BYE, BONNY PRINCE 


77 


by the cook instead of by Master Howard, she 
pushed the dish in front of me and walked off with¬ 
out a word, leaving me to stare after her wondering 
at the strangeness of things. Although my favorite 
foods were before me I had no appetite and did not 
attempt to touch a morsel. 

A little later I heard the front door open and to my 
joy Howard came out. I sprang forward to meet him 
but stopped suddenly when I caught sight of his 
face. Was it a dream after all, this sorrow of last 
night? A pale, tear-stained mournful little face 
was what I saw as Howard advanced without a 
motion of endearment or a word of greeting. I 
rushed to his side and laid my head against his 
hand then looking up into his eyes I tried to say, 
“Oh, Howard, why don’t you speak to me?” He 
sat down on the grass and drew me close to him 
burying his fingers in my long hair, and laying his 
cheek upon my silken ears. After a minute he 
whispered: “Bonny Prince, can you understand?” 

Could I understand? Little master, of what were 
you thinking? Had we not been like human 
companions all my life, I doing your bidding in every¬ 
thing, even anticipating your wishes from the look 


71 


BONNY PRINCE 


of your face, and now you ask me if I could under¬ 
stand! Perhaps Howard knew how unreasonable 
his question was, for he went on to explain, still 
whispering, as if fearful of his own voice: 

“Papa says that as you are only a dog you can not 
understand things and haven’t any feelings, that 
you were not created to have any. He says that I 
should have remembered that you are only a dog 
and not treated you like a brother.” Here Howard 
ceased speaking, and lying flat on the grass began 
to sob. I drew near to comfort him, but he pushed 
me gently back. Presently he sat up and said: 

“You keep still, Bonny Prince, and Pll tell you all 
about it. Papa has lost all his money and we 
are going to move away, and we can not take you 
with us, but in a year we are to come for you. This 
is the same as saying that I will never see you again, 
for I know something will happen and I have lost 
my best friend.” 

The thought was too much for Howard, who laid 
his head down on his arm, overcome with the 
misery of it all. We were both aroused by the 
voice of Mr. French, who had come up so softly 
that we had not observed his approach: 


GOOD-BYE, BONNY PRINCE 


79 


“Howard, my son,” he said, “You will not make 
this any harder for me to bear. Get up and bid your 
dog good-bye and be a brave lad, remembering that 
after all a year is but a short time and I know that 
neither you nor Bonny Prince will be any the worse 
for the brief separation.” 

“But we will be so lonely, papa,” remarked 
Howard, sadly. 

“Yes, for a little while” answered his father, 
“but Bonny Prince will have a good master and you 
may learn to forget him when we get settled in our 
new home.” 

“Forget Bonny Prince!” cried my little master, 
with flashing eyes. “I shall never forget him as long 
as I live.” 

If I was faithful to Howard, he in his turn was not 
false to me. But just now I was thinking of Mr. 
French. How patient and forbearing he was to 
stand there reasoning with his little son about a dog 
while from within his beautiful home came the 
sound of hammers at work and the moving about 
of heavy pieces of furniture. Howard was only a 
child and he did not know that there was anything 
worse in this world than the loss of a loving, brown- 


80 


BONNY PRINCE 


eyed dog, but I felt with a dumb creature’s instinct 
which I can not describe how much greater was his 
father’s trouble; wishing to show the kind-hearted 
man that I was satisfied with any plans he made I 
went to him and licking his hand looked up into 
his face. 

He stooped and patted me on the head, saying: 

“This is a changeable world, poor lad.” 

And as his eyes filled with tears I knew that he 
was thinking of the day when he first brought me 
home and of the happiness and peace he then 
enjoyed. The gate clicked and a tall, thin man 
wearing a hard hat, came into the yard. I had 
never seen any one who looked like him and I shall 
always remember his long nose, his gold eye-glasses, 
and his face, devoid of life and expression. 

“Mr. Carmington,” said Howard’s father, “You 
have come in good time. My boy and I have just 
been talking about the dog, and we are satisfied that 
you should take care of him for us until we are ready 
to call for him.” 

The stranger glanced at me and then at Howard 
with a careless smile. 

“I see you are a sensible boy, Master French,” 



“GOOD-BYE BONNY PRINCE" 
















































82 


BONNY PRINCE 


he said, “the dog will be finely treated/’ and then 
as if to reassure Howard, he added, “I will feed him 
well.” 

What more could a dog wish than to be well fed? 

He took a long strap out of his pocket and made 
a motion as if to remove my collar, Mr. French 
seeing this turned to my little master and asked: 

“Do you wish Bonny Prince to keep the collar, 
Howard?” 

“It belongs to him,” returned Master Howard, 
swallowing hard. 

“We have talked this matter over before, Mr. 
Carmington, and everything will be just as arranged. 
And now,” continued Mr. French, bending over me 
and taking one of my paws in his hand, “be a good, 
obedient dog and it will not be very long until we 
meet again.” 

By this time Mr. Carmington had fastened the 
strap to my collar and was ready to lead me away. 
He hesitated a moment however and glanced at 
Howard, who came over and laid his hand lingeringly 
upon my head, then turning his face away, he said, 
in a broken voice: 

“Good-bye, Bonny Prince, good-bye.” 












CHAPTER XII 
Heartache 

Mr. carmington was not a cruel man, on the 
contrary he was really as kind as he knew how to be. 
True to his promise, he gave me plenty of good 
things to eat and provided me with the best of 
quarters, what could be more comfortable than to be 
allowed to sleep every night on a warm, long-haired 
rug in a richly furnished library? But he was cold 
in his manner and indifferent to me at all times; 
if I had not been so accustomed to being petted I 
would, probably, have been satisfied with my new 
home, as it was I was utterly desolate, my name was 
spoken so seldom that I might have forgotten it 
altogether had it not been associated with the 
memory of Master Howard. 

The first days after the parting I could not eat, 
but would lie very still for hours thinking of the past. 
Once Mr. Carmington noticed that I did not eat, and 
supposing that my sight was failing he pushed my 
dish towards me with his foot, but it was no use, 
everything had become distasteful to me and it was 

83 


84 


BONNY PRINCE 


many weeks before my grief lessened or I felt in the 
least reconciled to my new life. 

Each morning I went with Mr. Carmington to his 
place of business, which proved to be a large banking 
house where day after day I heard the jingling of 
gold and silver coin and all the talk was of “money, 
money, money,” the very name of which I hated 
because it was the root of all the evil that had come 
to me. 

Although I walked down town by Mr. Carmington’s 
side every day, and lay for hours at a time near his 
desk, we were no better friends than on the day 
when he came in through the little white gate and 
took me away from my master, but I could not 
blame this busy man of the world for lack of sym¬ 
pathy and dearth of kindly words, perhaps even if 
he had spoken to me and tried to take my little 
master’s place it would not have made much differ¬ 
ence, for my thoughts were with Howard and the 
rest of the family. 

Over and over again I asked myself why Mrs. 
French and Aunt Lucy had not come to bid me 
good-bye. Was it because they did not care? Or 
did they perhaps care too much? And what had 



BONNY PRINCE SEES FLEETFOOT FOR THE LAST TIME 














86 


BONNY PRINCE 


become of Fleetfoot? Had Howard kept the pony 
and sent me away? The old jealousy came back 
and grew upon me, and I tormented myself with the 
thought that after all I was not the favorite one. 
One day as we were leaving the bank I heard the 
sharp beat of firm hoofs and a hatless golden¬ 
haired girl rode past on a beautiful pony, which I 
recognized at once. Jumping into the street I gave 
a bark of excitement just as pony and rider dis¬ 
appeared round a corner. I had seen little Fleetfoot 
for the last time. 


CHAPTER XIII 
A Sudden Change 

Winter came with its short cold days and frosty 
nights, robbing the trees of their wealth of bright 
leaves, and the flower gardens of their splendor. 
This however, gave me little concern for I no longer 
expected anything beautiful in this changeable, 
sad old world. Mr. Carmington did not appear to 
mind either, for he never took the trouble to glance 
about him. Perhaps his head was too full of money 
matters, I am almost sure that he would never have 
known that it was winter if the bitterness of the 
weather had not obliged him to don an overcoat. 
We went out every morning and came back every 
evening, “just like clock work,” somebody said, 
but as the season progressed it was darker each 
night when we arrived home. 

As Mr. Carmington was so indifferent to me, I 
wondered at his making me such a close com¬ 
panion, at first I thought he was taking care of me, 
but as this was quite unnecessary it gradually dawned 
upon me that I was taking care of him, for as my 

8Y 


BONNY PRINCE 


interest in passing events began to revive I dis¬ 
covered that he carried money in his pockets as 
well as his head. I do not know why he did this. 
Perhaps he wished to count it over in his room. 
One thing I am certain of, he did not wish it to pass 
into other hands. 

The winter holidays had come and gone and it 
was the beginning of February, Mr. Carmington was 
more wrapt up in his business than ever and I was 
still his silent body-guard. We always came home 
in the dark, but as we knew the way so well we 
needed no torch to light our way even after we 
passed electric lights. 

One pitch-black night, Mr. Carmington and I 
were walking up a steep little hill, having just left 
the busy crowd in the heart of the city. I re¬ 
member well what a still night it was and how 
distinctly Mr. Carmington’s new shoes squeaked as 
he made his way leisurely up the narrow side-walk, 
I trotted along beside him, making no sound as I 
went for my feet though not small were well padded. 
I do not know exactly how it happened, but just as 
we were making a turn, I felt something like a jerk 
and a pair of hands closed firmly about my neck 


A SUDDEN CHANGE 


89 


almost shutting off my breath. I had time for but 
one thought, that perhaps Mr. Carmington was 
attacked by robbers or imagined that he was and 
had appealed to me for help. But in this I was 
wrong, for Mr. Carmington's steps had not slackened. 
I could hear his shoes squeaking along the sidewalk, 
they seemed hundreds of miles away, the fingers 
were still around my throat and some soft thing 
was pressed close against my nose and mouth, my 
head began to grow heavy and I felt as if I was 
slipping, slipping, slowly but surely into a great 
dark pit. Worst of alb I was unable to move or 
make a sound. 


CHAPTER XIV 
Gypsy Life 

When I came to myself I was stunned and be¬ 
wildered, I got up and looked about me, but the 
quick, clear understanding I had always had deserted 
me now, I could find no meaning in what I saw; the 
rough bare floor, the rusty stove, the dirty, white 
walls made of cloth that moved constantly; I 
discovered that the miserable little house itself was 
lurching and rattling forward, and looking towards 
the front I caught sight of the sharp, narrow backs 
of two horses. What did it all mean? There was a 
man humped over on a high wagon-seat and a 
wretched looking woman sitting on a stool, a brown 
baby close to me was fast asleep, and a boy who 
appeared sickly peeped out through an opening in 
the side of this queer, moving house. No one 
noticed me when I stood up nor did they glance in 
my direction when I threw myself against the 
floor with a heartbroken sigh. It dawned upon me 
what company I was now in and what sort of life 
was ahead of me, for I had seen this kind of humanity 

90 


GYPSY LIFE 


91 


once before and Howard had told me they were 
gypsies. I remembered having thought the life of a 
tramp-dog enviable compared with that of this 
wandering tribe. 

My head swam, and my neck, from which the 
gold collar had been roughly taken, ached terribly, 
I felt weak and thirsty from lack of food and water 
and I longed to make my wants known, but had I 
been able to do so it is very doubtful if they would 
have been satisfied. 

Pretty soon the brown baby awoke, and rubbing 
his eyes slipped off the old trunk on which he had 
lain and toddled joyfully towards me, I sat up and 
gave a fierce growl and the little thing ran away, 
screaming. I was always sorry afterward for having 
growled, I would never have done it but for the pain 
and misery which I felt, and of which these people 
were the cause. The woman, who seemed to have 
been in a trance, became now wide awake and taking 
the child upon her knee soothed him gently, the 
man, who was an ugly fellow, turned and glanced at 
me savagely and the boy gave me an equally fierce 
look. Nothing was said for some time, then the 
woman remarked in an unpleasant tone: 


92 


BONNY PRINCE 


“Why did you bother to bring the dog here when 
the collar was all you wanted ?” 

“Much you know about such things. I can sell 
the dog easily enough!” And as the driver wheeled 
about the look he had given me was loving com¬ 
pared with the one he bestowed on his interfering 
partner. 

“Pa,” said the boy, who was again observing the 
outside scenery, “there’s a farmhouse.” 

“About time,” returned his gentle father. “I 
wonder if granddame is not coming.” 

“Granddame is resting,” answered the woman in 
a shrill voice. “You would kill the old creature if it 
was left to you, and she is nigh onto ninety years.” 

“She won’t die while she is making such a good 
salary,” was the ill-natured rejoinder. The woman 
started to speak again but ceased, the horses having 
come to a sudden standstill in front of a cozy farm 
dwelling. 

“Well,” said the man, sarcastically, “Ain’t you 
goin’ to get out, or do you want help?” 

“I think you might go for once,” replied the 
woman in a whining voice, “I can’t go up there 
with this strange dog.” She went however, and 


GYPSY LIFE 


93 


brought me with her for the purpose of offering me 
for sale, I sincerely hoped that she would succeed 
in closing a bargain for I felt that I could not pos¬ 
sibly fare worse than at present. 

The matron who op¬ 
ened the door to the 
gypsy’s timid knock 
looked out, wide-eyed 
and almost frightened 
at the spectacle that 
confronted her. 

“Oh, fair lady!” cried 
the gypsy, in a soft 
voice quite new to me, 
“your sweet face tells 
me that you can give 
me help. I have a sick 
little boy outside who 
has had nothing to eat 
for two days and if 
you out of the abund¬ 
ance of your wealth, can spare me some food I 
shall pray that you may never know what it is to 
be without a home.” 


















94 


BONNY PRINCE 


Now the face of the mistress of the house was not 
fair, and was sweet only so far as it showed that its 
owner had a large and loving heart. I do not 
think she was moved by vanity, it is just a woman’s 
way to be touched by a story of a sick little boy and 
a family of houseless heads. Whatever may have 
been her reason, the good woman closed the door 
and disappeared, returning shortly with a bundle 
whose weight caused the gypsy’s swarthy counten¬ 
ance to brighten. I feared that in her delight she 
would forget to sell me for I had become very 
anxious in the last few moments to be part of this 
kind woman’s household, but after many thanks and 
highly colored compliments the gypsy turned to 
me and keeping her eyes fastened on mine said in a 
broken voice: 

“Oh, generous lady, it hurts my heart to speak of it, 
but I must sell this dog. He was my father’s dog 
and I would keep him always but for my poverty. 
He never was away from me, but if your gentle 
hand—” 

“Oh, la!” exclaimed the housewife, finding her 
voice for the first time and speaking in some alarm, 


GYPSY LIFE 


95 


“we have too many dogs already, Seth has two and 
Jim has—” 

“I shall now go, so farewell, ” interrupted the 
gypsy feeling that her mission was at an end. “Come,” 
she commanded and I followed her. Just as we 
rounded the corner of the house, four dogs, of 
different sizes and colors sprang out yelping and 
barking and making a horrible din; I had never had 
a fight in my life but now I was nervous and almost 
mad with hunger and thirst and felt fiercely eager 
to revenge myself on something. In a moment the 
barks had turned to howls, and three of the dogs 
went limping off, the fourth stood his ground for a 
little while and I worried him to my heart’s content, 
the other three came back, stopped at a safe dis¬ 
tance and began to bark again, the lady of the house 
screamed, the gypsy screamed and stamped her 
foot. When the noise subsided, and I followed my 
leader meekly back to the covered wagon, the driver 
was leaning against a hitching rack adjoining the 
road fence. 

“Thunder and blazes!” he exclaimed as we came 
up, “depend on wimmens and dogs to make a 
racket, wimmens and dogs.” 


96 


BONNY PRINCE 


“Here,” snapped the gypsy woman, as she handed 
him the parcel, “I made no racket.” 



CHAPTER XV 
Evil Communications 

During the first few months of my life with the 
gypsies we did little but travel and tell fortunes. 
Of course I had nothing to do with the black arts 
myself, such accomplishments belonged entirely to 
“Granddame,” who, I judged from all appearances, 
excelled in her calling. For a little while I was an 
attentive listener to the old woman’s warnings and 
prophecies, but after a time it all grew very tire¬ 
some to me, and I could no longer believe in “Great 
happiness to come,” “Much riches in the future,” 
or “A letter that will make everything all right.” 
To one and all, “Granddame” carried the same glad 
story of riches and happiness and letters. The 
company of which I had been made an unwilling 
member was arranged in four divisions, each con¬ 
sisting of a raw-boned team, a covered wagon and, 
of course, some of the tribe, ranging in number from 
two to six. 

After about four days of hopeless misery and 
hunger which I spent in the first wagon, I was 

97 


98 


BONNY PRINCE 


transferred to another, and here I fared better for 
I now made the acquaintance of some younger 
people whose temper had not as yet been spoiled by 
friction with earth’s rough places. Here, too, I met 
“Granddame” for the first time and I wish that you 
could have seen her as I saw her then. She was 
older than I had any idea a mortal could be and 
still be able to move about like other people. She 
usually dressed in bright red and always kept a 
long crooked stick by her side, but I have reason to 
know it was not so much to assist her in walking 
as to maintain respect for herself and order in the 
house. Though not rapid in her movements she 
never failed to quickly reach and punish those who 
caused her displeasure, consequently she was seldom 
overlooked and was treated with kindness and atten¬ 
tion while going about. She was constantly ad¬ 
dressed as “dear Granddame,” and I believe that 
through fear of this gaunt old creature there was 
nearly always peace if not plenty in the rattling 
wagon which for the time being was the only home 
I had. 

The idea of selling me or of even offering me as a 
gift had been early abandoned, for in the course 


EVIL COMMUNICATIONS 


99 


of our pilgrimage whenever my disposal was sug¬ 
gested there invariably arose ill feelings and bitter 
conversation between the gypsies and the house¬ 
holders, as the supply of dogs seemed far greater 
than the demand. In consequence of this sad state 
of affairs my kidnappers were compelled to endure 
my presence for a time at least, but as I continued 
to prove an unprofitable investment, being neither 
ornamental nor useful, my food gradually decreased 
in quantity, and in quality also, if that were possible. 
I had even reason to believe that plans were being 
made to take my life, when by a happy chance 
I came across a half-frozen rabbit one day while I 
coursed along beside the rear wagon. 

Having killed the unfortunate animal I was pre¬ 
paring to satisfy my own hunger, which by this 
time had become almost intolerable. Eager as I 
was, Fate, in the garb of a gypsy, came between 
me and my promising dinner, and left me staring 
blankly after his retreating form as he strolled along 
swinging the rabbit backward and forward. Man¬ 
aging as best I could my full heart and empty 
stomach I started briskly across the field, hoping to 
find something, if only a bare bone, on which I 
i.of c. 


100 


BONNY PRINCE 


might make the semblance of a meal. Presently 
my bravery was rewarded by the sight of another 
rabbit much livelier than the first, but still offering 
a great deal of encouragement to a fast runner, 
which I now was on account of the length and lean¬ 
ness of my figure. After an exciting chase the rabbit 
came into my possession, and as there was no one near 
to dispute my rights I dined in royal style. 

This little incident was the beginning of a long 
course of bad behavior not so wicked in itself as what 
it afterwards led to. Looking back, I can scarcely 
believe that a dog brought up as I had been could so 
easily be led astray. Once started, my whole time 
was given to hunting. From rabbits I went to 
quail, from quail to the farmers’ chickens and then 
nothing less than proud red-headed turkeys would 
fully satisfy my depraved nature. As I grew to be 
an expert thief I gained favor daily with the gypsies 
and in time I became a respected member of the 
company. On our journey through the country we 
naturally came upon many flocks of poultry, as soon 
as I saw them I raced into their midst and they fell 
before me as they would in the path of a sickle. 


EVIL COMMUNICATIONS 


101 


So the days and months went by without im¬ 
provement in my morals, and at the end of two years 
I was a “scamp” in every sense of the word. 


CHAPTER XVI 
The Gypsies’ Warning 

A little before noon one warm summer’s day, the 
whole gypsy company, myself included, drew up in 
front of a broken-down gate which opened into a 
large tract of timber. A few trees had been cut 
down, those remaining were thick and straight, 
with long, far-reaching branches, the soft ground 
was covered with green grass, and across the road 
stood a little red school-house. A few feet from the 
scarred weather-beaten doors was a new-looking 
pump with a bright tin cup, suspended from the 
top by a piece of wire. 

The jaded travelers drew rein upon coming near 
the group of inviting trees and waving grass, but 
they hesitated some time, knowing as they did the 
punishment that is apt to befall trespassers. 

After consulting among themselves for some 

minutes, seeming to be at a loss what to do, a member 

of the gang chanced to notice the pump, and their 

indecision was at once at an end. Jumping down 

from the wagons the men soon had the horses un- 
102 


THE GYPSIES’ WARNING 


103 


hitched and were leading them across the school- 
yard. Besides those in harness there were several 
other horses traveling behind the wagons and 
serving only as articles for trade. Although they 
did no work they were given the greater part of the 
stolen feed in order that they might present a better 
appearance, but, as is often the case, they did not 
thrive on ill-gotten gains, and were generally more 
bony, if that were possible, than the unfortunate 
beasts of burden. 

Upon reaching the well, one of the men seized the 
pump-handle, expecting a flow of water, but the 
handle wriggled limply and no precious drop appear¬ 
ed. A wave of disappointment passed over the 
faces of the waiting assembly, for one and all under¬ 
stood that the pump had “lost its prime.” 

What was now to be done? The man who first 
made the heart-breaking discovery expressed his 
displeasure in several vulgar sentences, which a 
couple of years before would have caused me to yelp 
with moral pain, but this tenderness of conscience 
was beginning to be a thing of the past, so I merely 
lolled out my cracked tongue and looked helplessly 
about. Then in a fit of rashness I vyent over and 



f 


AT THE PUMP 











































THE GYPSIES’ WARNING 


105 


licked the platform and the side of the pump, 
and by this simple act intensified the atmosphere 
of passion that surrounded me. I was given a kick 
in the ribs by way of consolation. So you see 
I was more to be pitied than anyone there, for I 
was not only hungry and thirsty, but had also 
an extremely sore side. 

I have heard that there is seldom a trouble in this 
world without some remedy, and in the gypsies’ 
case this was true enough. One of the women 
remembered a jug of hard cider which sat under a 
wagon seat, and she ran to fetch it. A murmur of 
disapproval met her as she emerged with the heavy 
jug under her arm, for to many of the crew, although 
bread might be a staff of life, strong drink was life 
itself. One man, a kind of captain, took the jug 
from the waiting woman’s hands and emptied 
nearly the whole of its contents into the pump, soon 
the water came rushing forth, murky at first, but 
before long falling clear as crystal into the buckets 
eagerly pressed forward to receive it. 

The lank, perspiring horses strained after the cool 
liquid, and in spite of my own aches and pain it did 
me a world of good to see them bury their noses 


106 


- BONNY PRINCE 


deep in the well-filled pails. Presently, I drew near 
a gentle old creature which had become quite a 
friend of mine, and we took turns at drinking, he 
laying his head against my back while I lapped and 
lapped, scarcely knowing when to stop. 

When we again reached the road, a flaring red 
piece of card-board pasted on the school-yard fence 
drew the attention of a number of the tribe, and 
spelling out what it announced they entered into 
an excited discussion. 

“Old Salem Chautauqua at Pittsburg, August 
6 to 26.” 

“That’s now,” came from several at once, and 
then the leader exclaimed, “The whole country’s in 
camp somewhere! If we ever make hay this is the 
season. You take it in, boys?” 

They evidently understood, for their faces bright¬ 
ened as if by magic. One and all glanced across the 
fields in search of houses, but none were in view. 
Then their eyes scanned a narrow, smokeless chimney 
looming up in the distance, at the back of the 
timber. 

A member of the company, darker than the rest 
and more silent, turned to me and whistled, and I 


THE GYPSIES’ WARNING 


107 


knew that he meant me to follow him. We climbed 
over the leaning gate and made off through the 
woods. I saw at once we were on a road which had 
been traveled but a few times and then abandoned, 
for the wagon tracks were hardly visible through the 
growing grass. 

It was a long journey and I was getting very 
tired when we finally walked up to the side-fence 
of one of the finest gardens I had ever seen. Its 
chief stock was vegetables, but as I do not care for 
these, I was not nearly so interested in them as was 
my companion. For the first time I noticed that he 
carried a large, coarse sack, and unfolding this he 
looked carefully around, then sprang lightly over 
the low fence. 

Looking cautiously in every direction, I soon 
made sure that there was no one about the yard or 
fields, nor within the big house where the blinds 
were drawn closely down. Chickens, turkeys, and 
geese gathered insects out of the tall grass, so 
occupied with their pleasant task that they were 
silent, save when at intervals they gave chirrups and 
exclamations of satisfaction in their various lan¬ 
guages. I knew that in a short time I would be 


108 


BONNY PRINCE 


called upon to disturb their tranquillity and for a 
moment I felt a qualm of conscience at the thought. 

While turning these things over in my mind I 
was startled by the reappearance of the stocky 
gypsy, who, having filled his sack with vegetables, 
staggered over a low place in the fence, landing 
almost on top of me. 

“Come,” he said as he regained his proper balance, 
and without any hesitation I went. To my surprise 
he did not direct my attention to the poultry, but 
instead, started off in the direction of the large, 
red barn. Arriving there he tried the doors, and 
finding them locked he produced something out of 
his pocket and after a moment’s hammering the 
hinges flew back, revealing well-filled bins of grain. 

The gypsy, who seemed to possess great talent in 
concealing sacks until the right time, drew one 
out of somewhere, and filled it generously. This 
done, he arranged the doors as he had found them, 
and mumbling a command to me, made his way 
to where the poultry continued their picnic, in 
blissful ignorance of the fate which awaited them. 

As I have before referred to my accomplishments 
as a hunter, it is needless to say that my part in the 


THE GYPSIES’ WARNING 


109 


work of crime was soon done, and a third sack 
made its appearance, into whose depths a number 
of headless birds found their way. 

I was beginning to wonder how this one man was 
going to manage such a heavy burden when I 
heard a long, low whistle and understood that help 
was coming. Sure enough it was not far away, and 
the next minute a white horse ridden by the captain 
of the tribe came out of the woods and the three 
sacks were soon on their way to the camp. 

All the tents had been put up during our absence, 
and “Granddame” had a special one in which to tell 
fortunes. A sign to that effect placed boldly on the 
outside was done in red lettering to attract the 
attention of the public. 

A few days afterward a crowd of gay, young 
people came from the city a couple of miles away to 
learn what the future held in store for them. From 
that day there were visitors at the camp almost 
constantly, and as long as our stay lasted old “Grand- 
dame” reaped a rich harvest. 

Such prosperity and comfort were not to continue, 
however, and one day, after two weeks of luxury, 


110 


BONNY PRINCE 


something happened which disturbed the even tenor 
of our way. 

The whole company were eating dinner and I was 
sitting near by patiently waiting for the bones and 
crusts. Every one was bright and merry, and no one 
would have recognized in them the sullen faces of a 
month before. All at once someone gave a low cry of 
alarm and instantly the entire band was standing and 
a few of the men made off to where the horses were 
hitched. I jumped up too, but did not know the 
cause of the confusion until a large and burly 
farmer with a shotgun in his hands stood among us. 

“Clear out!” he cried in a loud voice. “Fll give 
you just fifteen minutes to be gone out of here. 
If you are not gone then Fll”— The farmer sud¬ 
denly stopped speaking. Words seemed too feeble 
to express his feelings. 

The gypsies readily took in the situation, and 
preparations for departure were made so hastily 
that my head swam as I watched them. 

The strange man stood with the gun in one hand 
and his watch in the other, and waited. In what 
seemed to be only a few seconds the entire company, 
with its belongings, was on the road, ready to 


THE GYPSIES’ WARNING 


111 


start. Then, as I had not moved since the first 
interruption, they whistled for me. 

“I’ll keep the dog,” the farmer announced in a 



high key. “It's the only thing worth keeping, and 
it's little enough for all you’ve stolen from me, 
you villains! Two more minutes to clear out.” 



112 


BONNY PRINCE 


Without further ado the wagons rolled off at their 
best speed, and I, standing by the strange man's 
side, watched them as they went. When they 
were out of sight he stooped and tied a thin rope 
around my neck, as he did this I looked up into 
his face, but I could not tell much about him, he 
was so disturbed and angry. Giving one more 
glance in the direction in which the gypsies had 
gone, the incensed farmer turned homeward, and 
I felt that a new life was opening before me. Was 
it going to be better or worse? 


CHAPTER XVII 
Old Shep 

“And what are you thankful for, Addie?” 

“I’se thankful that we got old Shep.” 

A ripple of laughter went around the Thanks¬ 
giving board and four-year-old Addie Osborn opened 
wide her eyes in astonishment. 

Then one of the guests asked, 

“Is that old Shep lying there watching us with 
such a sorrowful expression?” 

“That’s old Shep,” answered Addie, “and he’d 
be the best dog in the world only-” 

“Only for what?” 

“He cries at night,” and the quaint little girl 
holding a spoonful of pudding a few inches from 
her mouth regarded me with a mixture of admira¬ 
tion and pity. 

The merry jests which followed the child’s brief 
explanation were cut short by Farmer Osborn 
himself, who, pushing his plate back neglected his 
dinner for a little while to tell the following story 
in praise of my services: 

113 


114 


BONNY PRINCE 


“Well, everything con¬ 
sidered, I think we all 
have reason to be thank¬ 
ful that we came across 
Shep. You’ll hardly be¬ 
lieve it, but he’s taken 
a man’s place on this 
farm ever since he came 
here, three years ago. 
Addie was a mere baby 
then and that dog watch¬ 
ed over her with a care 
which was both touching 
and amusing. 

“Shortly after he came 
I went into the sheep- 
business, starting with a 
flock of one hundred, and 
hiring two men to herd 
them, but it seemed im¬ 
possible to keep the ani¬ 
mals within bounds; in a 
couple of months scarcely 
a neighbor would speak 



ADDIE IS THANKFUL 

























OLD SHEP 


115 


to me, for they naturally concluded that I had 
brought a lot of hungry sheep to be pastured at 
'other people's expense.' 

"I was about to give up in despair when I thought 
of the dog which had during this time proved 
himself so intelligent and useful about the house. 

"I brought him out one day and told him just 
what I wanted, where the sheep were to go and where 
they must stay. After that there was no trouble; 
every morning the flock was taken to the meadow 
and every evening brought back, always at the 
same hour and never a break in their file." Then 
Mr. Osborn smiled at me and said. 

"In winter Shep does chores and looks after the 
general welfare of the family." 

The guests were interested listeners to the story, 
while the six Osborn children and their mother 
beamed with delighted approval. 

"And where did you get such a valuable dog?" 
queried a stout lady in whose eyes I had evidently 
found favor. 

Farmer Osborn then told of the gypsies who had 
plundered his granaries while he enjoyed a few 
weeks' summer outing, and how the "good-wife" 


116 


BONNY PRINCE 


missed some of her best Bronze turkeys and yellow¬ 
legged chickens, and how he had taken the dog as 
part payment for his loss. 

“I sometimes feel a little guilty,” he concluded, 
“for acting so hastily, as I have been since assured 
that the dog is worth money—much more, I am 
afraid, than the worth of the stolen grain and 
fowls.” 

“Do not let your conscience trouble you,” re¬ 
marked one of the guests, “the dog never cost the 
gypsies anything; of that you may be sure.” 

“Swiped old Shep, didn’t they, papa?” com¬ 
mented Addie, innocently, and the Thanksgiving 
dinner ended as it had begun, with a laugh at my 
loyal little friend’s expense. 

When Christmas-time came, the gayest of the 
Thanksgiving company returned, bringing with them 
the good cheer belonging to that happy season. 
Aunts, uncles and cousins stood near the well-laden 
Christmas tree, and after the presents were dis¬ 
tributed (I was not forgotten), games and yuletide 
stories afforded amusement to all; but even when 
the merry-making was at its height I noticed that a 
cloud rested on the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Osborn. 


OLD SIIEP 


117 


I sat and looked at them for a long while, wondering 
how any one could be sad at such a time, then my 
eyes wandered to where seven-year-old Clay sat in 
a deep rocking-chair taking no part in the boisterous 
games of the other children, he was a pale little 
fellow, silent and gentle and my favorite in the 
Osborn family, he had not gone to school of late 
and now in the firelight he looked thinner than 
usual and I began to fear that there was danger of 
his becoming ill. 

Alas! I had good ground for anxiety. In an¬ 
other month Clay was not to be seen in his big 
chair and the wise old doctor who came, though he 
told the parents to be “hopeful,” seemed unable to 
follow his own advice, for he always looked solemn 
and shook his head. 

Then long weeks passed, weeks in which I was 
overlooked by every one, but I did not mind and 
almost forgot my own trouble in sharing that of my 
friends. 

One morning I heard a robin sing, and I gathered 
a vague inspiration from the sound of its voice, for 
I could not but feel that with the coming of spring¬ 
time our days would be brightened. Sure enough, 


118 BONNY PRINCE 

while I was still lis¬ 
tening to the shrill, 
sweet “cheer up,’’one 
of the older Osborn 
children came out of 
the house with a glad 
smile on his face and 
led me indoors; there 
I found Clay sitting 
before the fire, very 
pale and thin after 
his long illness, but 
there was life in the 
warm hand that 
stroked my head, 
and was that not sat¬ 
isfaction enough for 
the present? 

Although the spir¬ 
its of Mr. Osborn’s 
family were greatly 
revived by the im¬ 
provement in Clay’s 
health still there 



CLAY SITTING BY THE FIRE 
















OLD SHEP 


119 


was a strangeness about things which puzzled me 
until that eventful day when I was again turned 
out into the big world to make my way alone. 

It was shortly after daybreak when the first buggy 
arrived, and people began to enter the yard in such 
numbers that when a short, heavy-set man (spoken 
of as “auctioneer”) mounted a large block, several 
hundred persons stood in front of him waiting to 
hear what he might say. 

All kinds of farm stock, from “Cleopatra,” the 
family driving horse, to “Speckle,” the pet hen, 
changed ownership, a fact which I made out from 
the remarks of the auctioneer. 

When those sales were concluded, Mr. Osborn 
turned to Roy, his oldest son, who had been a 
silent listener throughout, and said, 

“Now bring old Shep,” 

Whereupon Roy, bursting into tears and exclaim¬ 
ing, “I can't, I can't!” ran wildly away. 

Farmer Osborn, more businesslike if not less 
tender of feeling took hold of the strap which bound 
my neck and brought me where I could be seen to 
advantage by the bidders. 

As I crawled upon the block beside the auctioneer 





SELLING BONNIE PRINCE AT AUCTION 



























OLD SHEP 


121 


there were murmured expressions about “thorough¬ 
bred/ ? “trained/’ “fine Collie/’ but my mind was 
confused and I could make nothing out plainly. 

It was early in May, the day was warm and sun¬ 
shiny, but a cold wave went through and through 
me as I stood up before all those strange faces and 
saw the numerous whips held by hands whose 
cruelty I might learn to know. 

“Dollars! dollars! dollars!” How I trembled 
as the word was repeated again and again. 

“A shame to let this beautiful Collie dog go at a 
sacrifice,” chanted the auctioneer. After that the 
bidding was more enthusiastic. Then as in a 
dream I heard: 

“Sold to Cyrus Goldenheart, for ten dollars and 
sixty cents. The auctioneer’s work was now done. 
Buttoning up his coat and pulling his hat down on his 
head he stepped off the block, then a strange man 
came and led me away. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

Misunderstanding and Misery 

If my new owner had a golden heart, as his name 
implied, he certainly must have loaned it, for I 
believe that he hadn’t any heart at all. 

When he first brought me to his home, a very poor 
looking place, he tied me by a heavy chain to a post, 
just as if I were a vicious creature, there I remained 
nearly starving for three days, I was then set free 
and put on trail as a cow-herder. 

I must have given satisfaction, for no comment 
was made and as the days went by I came to love 
the mild-eyed beasts, I kept them company by 
night as well as by day, for I lay among them in the 
broken-down shed, and felt less lonely while I 
could gaze up at the stars and hear the deep breath¬ 
ing of my dumb friends as I fell asleep. 

One morning summer was drawing to a close, Mr. 
Goldenheart took me with him a great distance and 
in the evening we brought home a flock of sheep. 
I can see them yet as they moved slowly along in a 

wide, white mass, the bleating lambs crowding 
122 


MISUNDERSTANDING AND MISERY 


123 


closely for protection among the larger and more 
powerful animals. 

It was late when we arrived at Mr. Goldenheart’s 
farm and he was very cross and worried. I noticed 
this fact especially from the way in which he treated 


BONNIE PRINCE CHAINED TO A POST 

“Pitch,” the patient little horse that had so willingly 
shared with me the difficulties of bringing home the 
sheep. 

Mr. Goldenheart, who always thought first of 
himself, went at once to the house for refreshment, 
























124 


BONNY PRINCE 


leaving the tired flock in my charge after turning 
Pitch unwatered and still saddled into the stable. 

Hours afterward the gates were shut and I was 
relieved from duty. About the same time Pitch was 
attended to, but I was offered no supper after my 
long day of fasting. Later, when the lights were all 
out and the occupants of the house were sound 
asleep, I crept up to the back porch, hoping to find 
a crust which might have escaped the hungry cats. 
Luckily for me, the slop-bucket had been placed 
outside the door, and from its depths I fished the 
best meal I had enjoyed in many a week. As I 
returned to the shed I was moved to pity by the 
bleating of a little lamb that seemed to be in pain; 
springing lightly over a low gate I found the small 
creature caught tightly in the fence, and a great 
number of the other sheep crowding noisily about 
it. With difficulty I parted the planks and after 
pushing the lamb backward and forward for some 
time, and in so doing robbing it of large tufts of 
wool, I at last was able to free it; I then returned to 
the cow-shed and slept the sleep of extreme weari¬ 
ness. 

Early the next morning I was awakened by the 


MISUNDERSTANDING AND MISERY 125 

harsh voice of Mr. Goldenheart, who seemed to be 
in a terrible rage. I crawled over a door and into 
the lot where my eyes met a sight which made my 
heart stand still. Dead and dying sheep were 
scattered everywhere. More than half the flock had 
been slaughtered in the night. 

Mr. Goldenheart turned and saw me and I trembled 
before him, for I knew that I was covered with wool, 
the result of my rescuing the imprisoned lamb. 

“You cur!” he screamed, and rushed at me like 
one mad; he stumbled over a long iron bar and pick¬ 
ing this up he struck me again and again; the light 
slowly faded and I knew no more. 

And yet I was not dead. By some strange chance 
a spark of life remained within me and after what 
must have been a long, long time I was able to 
totter to my feet. 

Bruised and bleeding I gained the roadside, 
looking behind me at every step. Painfully I 
dragged myself onward, not caring where I went so 
that Cyrus Goldenheart and his slain sheep remained 
behind. 

After many days and nights I came to the out¬ 
skirts of a large city, the noises deafened me, people 










































































MISUNDERSTANDING AND MISERY 


127 


seemed too busy with their own affairs to notice my 
pitiable plight. I now know that it was well for me 
the crowd passed me by for I would probably have 
been shot as a “mad dog.” 

I crossed a narrow street and stepped on to the 
sidewalk, only a few feet from a beautifully dressed 
lady who was talking kindly to a ragged little girl. 

I decided to stay near, hoping this lady would 
give me, too, a gentle word and perhaps something 
to eat. I followed her when she started off, and 
was glad to see that she did not hurry along but 
walked slowly as if enjoying the pleasant scenery. 

Some minutes later she stopped in front of a< 
handsome stone mansion and opened the pretty 
wire gate at the end of the long, ornamental walk. 
As she turned to fasten the hasp I caught sight of 
her face for the first time, and instantly I threw up 
my head and gave a sharp bark that startled her. 

It was Miss Sibyl Overbright! 


CHAPTER XIX 
Calm After Storm 

Miss Sibyl stooped over me kindly. Would she 
recognize me? I wagged my tail and gave a little 
bark. 

“Scamp!” she exclaimed. “I do believe it is 
Scamp!” 

I wagged my tail feebly. 

“Poor old fellow, you don’t look much like the 
Bonny Prince of long ago she said, “but I really 
believe you are.” 

When she spoke that old name which reminded 
me of my happy, blameless youth, I wagged my tail 
more vigorously and whined a little remorseful 
whine. 

“Yes, it is Bonny Prince, dear old dog! you shall 
stay with us till Howard comes, how glad he will be!” 

Again, at the mention of my dear little master’s 

name I wagged my tail, joyfully this time, and 

turned as if to run to him. Whatever doubts Miss 

Sibyl may have had were now dispelled, calling me 

to her she closed the gate and we both walked up 
128 


CALM AFTER STORM 


129 


the long path. On the veranda of the handsome 
house stood another old friend, Uncle Fred, who had 
put me through my paces so many years ago. 

“Hullo?” he cried. “Another stray, Sibyl? Why 
not call the house Dog Hospital at once?” 

“Oh! Fred” she answered. “This isn't a stray 
—at least, poor fellow I suppose he is, but it is 
Howard's dog, you remember Bonny Prince that 
Mr. Carmington lost.” 

Uncle Fred stooped over me and called me Bonny 
Prince at which I wagged my tail. 

“Well, of all the wonderful things, this is the most 
astonishing,” he said, “bring the poor beast in, 
let us get him something to eat and then Tom can 
wash him.” 

I was really too dirty to enter the house, so they 
took me to the stable, Tom, the coachman, proved 
a good-natured man who was used to Miss Sibyl's 
kindness to dogs and all animals. 

“But this is not an ordinary stray dog, Tom” 
she told him “this is an old friend, Bonny Prince. 
Mr. Howard French's dog.” 

Tom remembered that Mr. Howard had spoken 
of Bonny Prince, when he was visiting last winter, 


130 


BONNY PRINCE 


and had told how good and brave and faithful he was. 
On hearing this my tail drooped, I remembered the 
life I had led with the gypsies and wished I had never 
hunted the farmer's chickens, I felt that every one 
must know all about that past life. But Tom 
called me into the stable, and soon a nice meal was 
brought to me, the smell made me realize how very 
hungry I was, I cleared the bowl of every morsel 
and then licked it perfectly clean. Then Tom 
proceeded to give me a bath, this proved a dreadful 
trial, he was not ungentle and did not mean to 
distress me but it seemed as if more soapy water 
found its way into my eyes and mouth than I 
believed the whole tub contained, and I really felt 
this to be one of the worst trials I had endured. 
I am afraid I gave Tom no little trouble, but he was 
firm and as I have said, good-natured, and he washed 
and splashed and soaped and rinsed till I am sure 
every particle of dirt was removed. I was vigor¬ 
ously dried and then combed and then indeed I 
realized how delightful the effects of a disagreeable 
operation could be. I seemed washed clean of all 
the past disgrace, even that most undeserved 
disgrace at Mr. Goldenheart’s which had so nearly 


CALM AFTER STORM 


131 


cost me my life. I felt strong and young again, 
and when, being perfectly dry, I was led to the 
house I bounded up to Uncle Fred and Miss Sibyl. 

“This is something like Howard’s Bonny Prince,” 
said Uncle Fred. “Why even I should recognize 
him now.” 

“Of course you would” said Miss Sibyl “and so you 
would at the gate, if you instead of I had met him.” 



When they had petted me I lay down before a 
cheerful fire, the evening was cool and Uncle Fred 
and Miss Sibyl drew their chairs near it. I lay 
at their feet and listened to their quiet talk. I 
learned that Miss Sibyl was now Mrs. Frederick 



















132 


BONNY PRINCE 


French. I gathered that my dear little master had 
been heartbroken when Mr. Carmington wrote that 
I had been stolen and that as a wandering band of 
gypsies was supposed to have been guilty of the 
theft there was little hope of recovering me. 

I learned that Mr. French had prospered in his 
new home far away in California, that my dear 
little master had grown into a fine handsome man, 
that he had been to college where he had studied 
hard and made many friends, with one of whom he 
was now away on a long voyage. 

“How glad he will be when he comes home to see 
his dear old dog again/' said Miss Sibyl. “Perhaps 
he will not be so thin by that time." 

“I hope not" said Uncle Fred, “even his thick 
coat hardly hides his poor bones, poor old fellow! 
If you could speak I imagine you could tell us 
strange tales, Bonny Prince." 

I was very comfortable there by the fire, my 
nose between my front paws, too comfortable to 
move, but as I heard my name I rolled my eyes up 
at Uncle Fred and cocked the ear nearest to him. 

“Wonderful memory dogs have," said he, “I 
don't suppose he has heard that name all these 
years yet see how he pricks up at the sound of it." 


CHAPTER XX 
I Come to My Own 

The autumn passed swiftly, my life was once more 
a happy one. I walked proudly by Miss Sibyl, as 
I still called her to myself, when she took long 
walks in the country roads, sometimes she wondered 
to see me slink by with hanging tail when we 
passed a poultry yard, she could not know what 
remorseful memories were then recalled. She never 
called me Scamp now, but always Bonny Prince. 
When winter came I guarded the house, fetched 
Uncle Fred's slippers when he returned tired and 
cold in the evening, I helped Tom in the stable, 
made friends with the two nice horses, and was very 
happy, only when they would speak the name of 
Howard I would wistfully look towards the door, 
hoping to see my dear little master enter. Spring 
came and went, and one glorious July morning a 
letter came. 

“From Howard," exclaimed Miss Sibyl, “Oh! 
Fred, he says he is coming tomorrow, and I have 
told him nothing about Bonny Prince." 

133 


134 


BONNY PRINCE 


“A good opportunity to verify Homer’s knowl¬ 
edge of dogs/’ said Uncle Fred “to be sure Ulysses’ 
dog must have been a good deal older than Bonny 
Prince, but then the world moves faster now-a-days. 



We shall see whether Howard the boy will be recog¬ 
nized in Howard the man.” 

As if I should not know my dear little master! 
I felt quite indignant at the thought as I lay just 
beyond them on the veranda. I snapped ener¬ 
getically at a fly and missing him bit my tongue. 
I made up my mind to be the first to see Master 
































I COME TO MY OWN 


135 


Howard and to show them by my eager greeting 
that Master Ulysses, whoever he might be, had no 
more faithful dog than I, though 1 might be the 
younger. Alas! on the next afternoon as I lay 
watchful on the veranda by the stone steps I saw 
a fine tall young man open the gate and walk up 
the path and I never moved; on he came up to the 
steps: 

“Hullo!” he said, “this looks like-■” 

But he got no farther, as soon as I heard that 
“hullo” I knew and jumping up I leaped frantically 
about him. 

“Down sir, down!” he cried, at each jump “very 
friendly Urn sure, couldn't have been more so if you 
had been my dear old Bonny Prince.” 

“But it is Bonny Prince, Howard and he did 
know you,” cried Miss Sibyl coming out, “I am so 
glad, now perhaps Fred will realize what a wonderful 
dog he is. 

I followed them into the house, the happiest dog 
in all the world, and I was soon sitting close to my 
dear master, my head pressed against his knee 
in the old way, while Miss Sibyl told him the wonder¬ 
ful story of how I had followed her and how she 















I COME TO MY OWN 


137 


had recognized me. “And he was a very different 
looking dog, I assure you from what he is now, 
oh! Howard you would have been sorry to see how 
thin and miserable he was.” 

“Well, he looks fit as a fiddle now” said Howard, 
stroking my head gently. I sighed with happiness 
and lay down at his feet, I had come to my own 
again. 


CHAPTER XXI 
All’s Well That Ends Well 

Three years have passed away since my coming 
home with Howard. 

There is a sign done in gold lettering above the 
office door which I can not make out on account of 
the dimness of my eyes, but master tells me that it 
reads: 

“French, Attorney at Law,” and adds, “Your 
name should be there too, Bonny Prince, for you 
won my first case. 

That you may understand how this could be, I 
must tell you how it all happened. 

Although my young master was very popular 
with everybody in the city where he lived, as soon 
as he went into the law-business his visitors suddenly 
became scarce, and hardly any one but Dr. Lester 
Winters ever called at the office, and he did not 
come to seek legal advice, but simply “dropped in” 
to talk about old times, a subject of which he never 
seemed to tire. 

You will gather from this that Howard had little 

138 



HOWARD WAITING FOR CLIENTS 























































140 


BONNY PRINCE 


opportunity to gain a reputation or amass a fortune, 
two things which as he was ambitious he was anxicus 
to do. 

At last, when it was becoming impossible for my 
dear master to remain cheerful and merry any longer, 
one day a long, thin man came rushing into the 
office in such a state of rage that I am sure Howard 
for the moment thought he was an escaped lunatic. 

“Look here, young man,” cried the visitor, shaking 
his fist in master's face, “I want you to win a case 
for me. You've just got to. Every bum-fizzle 
of an old lawyer in town has ridiculed me and 
turned me away and I want to show him and them 
that I know what I'm talking about.” 

“And what are you talking about?” asked Howard 
quietly, when the strange man paused for lack of 
breath. 

If the visitor had been less excited I could have 
understood all that he said as he began to explain 
the cause of his trouble, but I made out that a rich 
neighbor had shot the speaker's dog “for trespass.” 
“The lovin'est critter that ever was,” he concluded, 
his anger almost melting into tears. 

I saw that my master was deeply interested, even 



A MAN CAME RUSHING INTO THE OFFICE 





























































142 


BONNY PRINCE 


touched by his visitor’s story and he told the stranger 
he would see him through, see that he got satisfaction 
for the wrong that had been done him. Then, 
after some talk about “the next term of court,” 
the visitor shook hands with Howard and went 
away quieted. 

About a week later, at my master’s invitation, 

I followed him closely across the city square and 
into a magnificent building which stood in the 
center of a pretty, green park. 

We went up flight after flight of stairs, and I was 
beginning to have palpitation of the heart when 
Howard turned a door-knob and all at once I found 
myself in the presence of the largest crowd that I 
had ever seen. A great fear or nervousness, I do 
not know which, came over me, and had it not been 
for Howard’s reassuring smile I can not say what 
stupid blunder I might have made. 

With master’s fingers on my head I walked up the 
wide aisle and was conscious that every eye was 
upon us. I saw two rows of men sitting close to¬ 
gether on a platform and just below them was our 
strange visitor of a week ago. 

Some one was speaking. I saw him standing 


ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 


143 


there before that sea of faces, but to me his voice 
sounded hollow and far away. 

Howard took a seat at the back of the platform, 
and I lay across his feet. The air in the room 
seemed very close; I was trembling and weak and 
faint. A new thought flashed across my mind and 
almost frightened me. I was growing old! 

The blur and confusion cleared away when 
Howard arose. Putting me gently aside he went to 
the front of the platform and began at once to 
speak. His voice was the only thing that broke 
the silence, and every one stared at him. I sup¬ 
pose he was wholly unknown to the greater portion 
of the audience. 

He told them what a faithful friend a dog is; of 
his being more of a real comfort often than a human 
friend, because his love and gratitude do not change 
with the change of circumstances. 

Howard said a great deal more in the same strain 
and though not in the least excited, he spoke so 
earnestly that I thought he was in need of me, and 
gathering up my stiff bones I went over and stand¬ 
ing very near him I put my nose in his hand. I saw 
several people in the audience take out their hand- 



“I PUT MY NOSE IN HIS HAND” 






ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 


145 


kerchiefs and wipe their eyes. Then before I could 
reason things out, my master bowed and sat down. 
All at once there was a great bustle and stir, and it 
seemed as if every one was shaking hands with 
Howard. 

Two faces beamed especially bright, one belonged 
to Howard’s father and the other to the man who 
had engaged my master to speak in his behalf. 

After that first remarkable case was won, every¬ 
thing went smoothly in Howard’s profession, and 
clients were so plentiful, that master was compelled 
to call in both his father and me to his assistance. 
Mr. French did all the written work and I was kept 
busy trotting back and forth to the postoffice. 

That was more than a year ago; of late I have done 
but few tasks because of an unaccountable weakness 
which often comes over me, and I am also afflicted 
with a dimness of the eyes and a stiffness in the 
joints. So you see it is much more easy to lie 
with my head on master’s feet than to frolic about 
as I did in the springtime of my existence. 

Having so much leisure I was prompted to write 
my autobiography, and now that it is finished you 
will probably say that your own dog is a great 


146 


BONNY PRINCE 


deal brighter than I, and he has not even so much 
as thought of making a record of what he has done. 

Whatever may be your opinion I am sure that I 
have been a help to Howard; for, coming to him as I 
did, a little dependent mite, he learned kindness and 
regard for the feelings of others and these virtues 
have been the stepping-stones to his success. 

And now, before I conclude the history of my own 
life, I will touch upon the doings of our mutual 
friends. 

The Osborns are near neighbors of ours, having 
moved to this city immediately after parting from 
me, and their surprise and delight were equal to 
my own when we beheld each other in this strange 
land. Mr. Osborn is a prosperous grain merchant 
and his wife and boys and the girls have not suffered 
from being transplanted into new soil, for all are 
well and happy. Clay robust and healthy is the 
merriest one of all. To the whole family I am and 
always will be “Old Shep.” 

The daring and mischievous Lester Winters has 
become one of the city’s leading physicians, and 
though, out of regard for his profession, he preserves 
a solemn mien, he is in reality as gay as ever, and his 


ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 


147 


laugh is as merry as in the days when we went to 
school together. 

From their Illinois home Uncle Fred and Aunt 
Sibyl send bright letters full of affection for us all. 
Once a year, in the holiday season, they pay us a 
long visit, Uncle Fred is trying to arrange his 
business so that they may come and settle out here, 
and then our happy family circle will be complete. 

Aunt Lucy, in her chosen vocation of caring for 
the sick, is stationed in a hospital only a few blocks 
away from home, and the most joyous day of the 
week is the one on which she comes smiling in with 
pleasant remarks for everybody and enthusiastic 
accounts of the progress of her patients. 

Mr. French is kept busy with Howard’s docu¬ 
ments, but the work never grows irksome to him, 
so proud is he of his wonderful son. 

Mrs. French, whom we have never found obtru¬ 
sive, is very happy in her quiet way; going about 
her household tasks in a manner which makes one 
feel comfortable to watch her. The hair which was 
golden, like Aunt Lucy’s is now sprinkled with 
white, and she wears it drawn back smoothly from 
her brow, but her face looks remarkably young,* 


148 


BONNY PRINCE 


from the fact, I suppose, that she is always smiling. 
Aunt Lucy says that her sister never has ceased to 
smile since Howard came home. 

So you observe that with the exception of myself, 
each has his duties and even I am not always idle. 

Time goes rushing on, yet for me there is no 
sadness in its flight, only a great joy in my heart, 
endless because of the knowledge that master and 
I will not be separated any more—never in this 
life—and afterward—I hope it is not a wicked 
thought—perhaps in Howard's Heaven there will 
be a little corner for his faithful dog. 





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